


Be Mine, But Don't Make Me Ask

by Apieceofurmind



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Arranged Marriage, Author loves pancakes, Bottom Steve Rogers, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Holding Hands, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Omega Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Soldier Bucky, Strangers to Lovers, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Too Many Pancakes, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2019-10-02 06:41:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 96,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17259455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apieceofurmind/pseuds/Apieceofurmind
Summary: Joseph waits his whole life for the perfect alpha son who will make him proud. The son who follow his father's footsteps and serves their country at war. And then, Steve Rogers is born. He is not strong, tall or muscular. But above all he is not an alpha. Betrayed by his own son, Joseph shuns him away.Enter James Barnes. Tall, muscular and strong. The perfect alpha.When Joseph saves his life on the battlefield, he asks him to marry Steve in return...





	1. Forgive my Father, for he has Sinned

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first multi-chapter fic on AO3 and to say I'm excited would be an understatement. I have a rough idea about how long this fic will be, but I don't want to give anything away just yet. It's an a/b/o fic, so expect a lot of smut later on, but for the time being there is an arranged marriage, slow burn and mutual pining to get through. And when I say slow burn, I mean really slow burn. 
> 
> Now to the important parts:  
> 1\. Even though it is a modern setting, some characters display an archaic sense of thinking. It was important to the plot and in no way depicts what I think or feel.  
> 2\. One of the characters in the first chapter is misogynistic and chauvinistic and trust me when I say that I hate the fact that I had to write him. But, he is important to the plot and so please bear with me.  
> 3\. In the story, omegas and betas are believed to be inferior to the alphas and thus are not allowed to do a lot of jobs that are considered tough, such as join the army.  
> 4\. Joseph is an asshole. I AM NOT. (I feel like I can't stress this enough.)  
> 5\. Mention of domestic abuse in the prologue. Just a bit.

**4 th of July 2000**

Joseph stood beside his wife’s hospital bed with bated breath. All his dreams were finally coming true. All those years of waiting, trying and trying again and they were finally having their son. After years patience, of prayers and hopes, they were finally going to have a son, he had made sure of it, a son for him to take care of, teach, and nurture into a soldier just like him. He'd always dreamt of a soldier son, a tall and proud alpha like his father and he couldn’t wait for it all to come true. Couldn’t wait to see his son follow his footsteps into the army and later raise a family of his own.  

 

He'd always dreamt only of a son. No daughters, no girls. He wanted a strong alpha son, one who would make him and carry on the Rogers’ name. Omegas and betas were a disgrace, the weaker sections of the society and he didn’t want to raise them. they couldn’t join the army, couldn’t follow their family tradition and neither could they carry the name forward.

 

He was a man of traditional and orthodox thinking, not one of those who believed in equal statuses of the two genders and three secondary genders. Women were inferior to men and the other two secondary genders were inferior to the alphas. That was just how the world was and there were no exceptions to that rule. Not even for his wife.

 

Sarah was a beautiful woman, skin pale and spotless and eyes the perfect shade of blue. The pink of her lips and the pink of her cheeks were perfectly matched and the way her eyelashes framed her face was divine. Not only was she the most beautiful woman Joseph had ever seen, she was the most enticing omega he had ever met.

 

Her scent, the subtle scent of rose water, had drawn him in so fast and hard, that he had hardly had anytime to know what was happening. Then it had all happened equally fast. They'd been married in the next year.

 

But that didn’t mean he loved her.

She was an omega, somebody who could bear him a child. A woman, with a functional reproductive system and beautiful features, who would bear him his handsome son. That was all she was to him, had always been.

 

Something she realised soon after marriage.

 

They started trying for a baby immediately after marriage and were successful three times prior to it. But every time the child turned out to a girl and Joseph got it terminated. The more abortions, the weaker Sarah got. Joseph was sure she wouldn’t be able to give birth after this, but he was okay with that, he would finally have his son.

 

His own son.

 

His wife lay struggling on the bed, tears streaming down her pale face and her screams reverberating in the loud room. But he paid no attention to that, focussed on the many plans he had for his son’s future. He knew he wouldn’t be of any help to her at this moment and he did not want to be the wuss who holds their wife’s hand and talks shit with her. She’s going to do what her gender is supposed to do and he is going to do what his does.

 

 

It’s after a long while that the room comes alive with the sound of a baby’s cry. Joseph rushes forward and snatches the baby from the doctor’s hand, examines him carefully and finally breathes a sigh of relief.

 

A boy, at last.

 

A boy with bright blue eyes and golden hair. A boy with the world’s strongest fist and world’s loudest cries. His own son, beautiful and strong.

 

He'd never been happier in his life. Finally, a boy was born to him, finally he could have some respect in his circle. He couldn’t wait till his son’s 18th birthday when he will be presented an alpha and he could parade him down the streets. Let everyone see the alphas of Brooklyn city.

**

**4 th of July 2018**

“An omega? My son’s a filthy omega?” Joseph bellowed at his wife’s fear-stricken face. She moved backwards in fear and his eyes widened in return. He liked to see her afraid, afraid of him and his temper, afraid to be struck, afraid of her alpha. It soothed some sadistic, lizard part of his brain and he was drunk on that power.

 

He advanced on her and grabbed a fist of her hair, pulling her up by it and snarling in her face.

 

“Did you not hear me? I asked if my son is a fucking omega.” She moved her head back to avoid the spit spray but he tightened his hand and bought her closer, pulling her hair till she sobbed.

 

She nodded fearfully, more tears springing to her face at the rough handling and he turned his face away in disgust. He threw her onto the floor and started pacing the length of it. 

 

He was goddamn furious. He was upset, embarrassed and above all very fucking angry. His son, the one whom he'd believed would be his pride, had turned out to be his worst nightmare ever. The boy was his greatest regret, the loser crown he wore on his head.

 

First it had been his poor health, the boy couldn’t last a second outside without catching a cold, and had missed most of his school that way. Then it had been his non-existent growth spree. Teenage boys he went to school with developed muscles and chest hair and grew taller than their fathers, but his son remained the skinny, bony guy he'd always been. With every passing moment, throughout his son’s growth, he faced shame and embarrassment. He'd always hoped it would change with this, the presenting of secondary genders, and maybe he'd be able to wash off the shame when his son joined the army.

 

Now, even that dream had been crushed. His son was a fucking omega.

 

His agitated pacing is interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing. He listens carefully to the soft footsteps in the living room and grits his teeth at the vanilla scent of his son.

 

He walked into his son’s room to greet him and sees the second his son gets fear in his eyes. The boy bows his head, arms behind his back and waits for Joseph to approach. The alpha does, even though he takes his own sweet time to do it and comes and stands too close to his son.

 

The vanilla scent is infuriating in itself but coupled with the fear that mixes in with it, it’s nauseating.

 

“Is my son an alpha?” he questions in a deceptively calm voice but icy tone.

 

The teenager’s eyes snapped up to his face, panic and anxiety written as clear as daylight in them, and then lowered immediately. The boy took a deep breath and let it out in a pained sigh.

 

“No, sir.” This voice barely carried across the minimal space between them, but the words still reverberated in the silence around them.

 

Joseph’s  mouth curled up in a smile, slowly, deliberately. The smile was cold, malicious and cruel. A smile that could bring so much pain, so many tears.

 

“Then he is not my son.” He replied. Casually, calmly, softly. Like he hadn’t just disowned his own blood. Hadn’t cut ties with his own son, his flesh, his first love.

 

The boy took a step back, his eyes brimming with tears and his mouth hanging open in shock. He shook his head violently, as if he could will away the past through it and valiantly tried to keep the tears off his cheeks.

 

“No, dad, please. I'm still your son, please.” The young man, who once used to be his son, cried.

 

But Joseph didn’t relent, hardly looked at the messed-up picture of the teenager. A broken image of the boy, who used to be his son.

 

The vanilla scent had gone stale now. Putrid, it had become. Rotten like their very relationship.

 

“No, Steve, you're not.” Because he's not Joseph’s  son anymore, he's Steve, just Steve and Joseph will never be calling him as his son again.

 

  
**

**25 th of May 2019**

When the sun sets in the battlefield of Afghanistan, Joseph likes to think of the article he once read in his youth. _The worst place on earth, is your nightmare._ In his innocent childhood he believed that lie, but in his wise mid-forties, he knows that’s not true. The war, the battlefield he's currently in the middle of right now, that’s the worst place on earth.

 

Danger looms over their heads, death is more certain than uncertain and everyone sleeps curled around the hopes and dreams of home. His nightmares are a paradise compared to the reality out there, rationed rations, beds with no bedding and a fight with no victors.

 

He stifles a yawn and reaches for the lukewarm cup of coffee beside him. He's on night duty today, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t already been worked down to his bones. Tiredness seeped into every nook and crevice of his body and he could hardly blink without exhaustion threatening to shut his eyes in sleep. It’s with heavy despair and a long sigh that he realises its empty. He resigns himself to his plight and turns back to watching the horizon. The sun is way past the horizon and the world was already bathed in shades of beautiful indigo and blue.

 

“Night duty, huh? That’s rough.” A deep voice spoke up from behind him. He turned around to the scent of dark chocolate with a smile, the voice familiar and very dear to him, and beckoned the other, man to sit beside him.

 

James Barnes. The son Joseph never had.

Sergeant James Barnes was a strong, handsome, alpha, the kind every man aspired to be. Promoted to sergeant at a very young age in recognition for the extinguished services provided to his nation, James had been the recipient of countless medals and honours. He was a fearless soldier, a great leader and above all compassionate and kind to his comrades. Joseph adored him, was immensely fond of him and to say he wished he had been James’ father would be the understatement of the century.

 

James smiled back at him, grey eyes twinkling under the blanket of stars the night provided, and took a seat beside the elder man. He folded his legs and placed a flask of coffee between them.

 

“Couldn’t sleep, sir?” Joseph questioned softly, an encouragement to talk of need be. And it surprised him, every interaction of his with the tall brunette surprised him. He was not the kind to talk feelings, ask other to confide in him or go to confide in them. He'd been brought up with the notion that that behaviour was for women, not men, definitely not for tough alphas.

 

But when it came to James, he wanted to know what troubled the lad, what nightmares he had, why he couldn’t sleep. Though the war that rages in front of them is answer enough, Joseph wants to hear it from the brunette himself.

 

_Fatherhood, he tells himself. This is what fatherhood is._

“Not tired enough, I guess.” James replies with a tired sigh, his head hung between his shoulders.

 

“The camp’s too quiet, isn’t it? Even I can’t sleep without gunfire as a lullaby.” Joseph gives him a wry smile and reaches for the flask, pouring a cup and offering it to the brunette, who watches him with a strange look in his eyes.

 

Afraid, vulnerable, terrified.

 

“What does that tell about us? What does that make us?” as he speaks the fear becomes more palpable, more profound and Joseph’s  heart aches for the young man. A young man with all his life in front of him, a whole future in front of him. A future which looks bleaker every second, every moment.

 

“It makes us soldiers, heroes, martyrs.” He places a hand on James’ shoulder and gives him a small smile. But the sarge doesn’t smile back, just clutches his wrist with his hand and looks into his eyes with the same haunted look he had before.

 

“What if we never stop being soldiers? What if we can’t go back to being just people? I don’t want to be just a soldier, I want so much more. I want a family of my own, a partner, kids, grandkids even. What if being a soldier makes me ineligible for everything else? What if I am always a soldier first and a human later?”

 

“Then you’ll still live. I did. I've got a wife. A s-” he can’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t have a son back home, hasn’t for almost a year now. Hasn’t thought about Steve for almost a year now, and is definitely not going to think about him now. Not when he's actually talking to his son, his son – not by blood but by deed.

 

“I've got a wife back home and a son right here.” He squeezes James’ shoulder with a tight smile and lets it go. James drops the hand holding the elder man’s wrist and smiles at him, the smile still not reaching his eye, but not as strained as before.

 

“My-”

His sentence gets cut off as a gunshot rings in the distance. They are both up on their feet in an instant, Joseph’s  hand flying towards his rifle and James reaching for his own. They nod at each other and take off towards the direction of the noise, glad that adrenaline leads the way. The sound arouses the rest of their camp and soldiers pile into the centre within minutes, armed and ready to fight.

 

There are no orders being given, it’s a do or die situation and amidst the lingering stench of death is the underlying current of fear and hesitation. Taking lives, human lives, irrespective of the fact that they may be the enemy. Was hard, inexplicably so. But they did.

 

Under the cover of darkness, it was impossible to see anything much. But they recognised each other and trusted each other even more. Bullets flew through the air and the ringing hung in their ears. Mud and dirt flew around them and their comrades fell. Joseph hardly spared them all a glance, too focused on keeping himself alive and breathing, making it out of there in one piece.

 

It happens so fast he hardly notices it. He shoots and an enemy soldier falls. He rushes towards the edge of the camp at the same time that James does. But he notices the sniper that James doesn’t. It’s a split-second decision really, James is a young man, with a full life ahead of him, a future ahead of him. He can’t die, Joseph can’t let his son die.

 

He jumps at the brunette, throws his body in front of his. Takes the bullet meant for him, meant for his son. Falls to the ground beside his son. Hears him call out to him, hears him tell him not to close his eyes, feels himself smile.

 

_Fatherhood, he tells himself. This is what fatherhood is._

_**_

**4 th of March 2020**

Joseph stares at his so-, no at Steve indignantly. The blonde had walked his house the day he got discharged from the hospital and came back home and he had promptly asked him to get out. His wife had cried and begged not to do it, had fallen at his feet and cried her heart out over it, but he had refused to reconsider.

 

He knew his wife kept meeting with him and he had put his foot down about that. Lot of crying had ensued and lot of screaming had followed but eventually his wife agreed.

 

And that was why Steve was here today. Staring down his father with enough venom to kill. But Joseph didn’t budge either, returning the glare with his own.

 

“I may not be your son, but she is my mother. You cannot forbid me to see her and neither can you forbid her from seeing me. She gave birth to me, endured enough pains due to your madness and you will not keep her from me. You will not cause her any more pain.” The tiny blonde bellowed, his hands fisted at his sides, his face an angry shade of red.

 

“She suffered pain because of you. She’s ashamed of you, of her pansy little omega son. You brought shame and disgrace to our family and you have the audacity to come back here and make demands from me. You should be thankful I let you live this long, boy. Should’ve killed you the day I realised you weren’t going to grow anymore.” His voice grew agitated so did his scent. The angry pheromones from both of them clogged the air around them, suffocating, trapping.

 

“I brought shame and disgrace? What did I ever do, father? That I was born weak? That I am not an alpha? That I'm short and thin and not manly looking enough for you?” Tears sprung to Steve's eyes and his voice broke more after every question. Joseph would’ve felt sorry for him, but he didn’t. couldn’t. not when Steve had disgraced him so much. Disgraced him in all the ways he had just mentioned.

 

“Yes. Yes, to all of that. You're an omega and not even a healthy one. This is the end of my family, Steve. This is the end of the Rogers’ name. Who will marry you? Who will ever want you? I've always wanted grandkids and because of you I’ll never have that.” He spat at the man whom he once loved. Whom he once cradled close to his heart and vowed to love till the end of his days. He looked into those same baby blue eyes and saw shame and disrespect when once he had seen pride and glory.

 

“I can have kids, father. I-”

 

“You will and then what? Give them the name Rogers? Which alpha would allow that, Steve? The omegas don’t name their children after them. They never have. Just get out. You can’t see your mother, we cannot be associated with you anymore.” There was a finality to the words, a tone that felt no room for arguing. However, Steve was stubborn, adamant to a fault and he would not give up.

 

“You can’t make her decisions for her. Let her choose, you or me.” He looked towards his mother but she shook her head at him, shame and guilt written clear in her eyes. A lone tear fell from the blonde’s eyes and he shook his head in surprise. His mouth fell open but no sound came out and he turned towards Joseph in shock.

 

The vanilla in the air, turned acidic, as did the rose water.

 

“Get out boy and never return.” Joseph smiled at him, slow and malicious and Steve turned away immediately.

 

The doorbell rings then and all three of them freeze. Joseph shoots them both a murderous glare and silences them with his look alone.

 

“Make yourselves presentable in case they come inside.” He orders in a low volume and goes to open the door.

 

Once he reaches the door, he takes a deep breath, forces a smile onto his face and throws the door open.

James. James Barnes is at his door.

 

**

“So, James, what brings you here?” He questions with a smile, the sight of his _son_ removing all the negativity from the earlier interaction. James seems to take a moment to sniff the air around them and that’s when Joseph notices the sourness of it.

 

Sarah’s rose water scent and Steve's vanilla one is both doused in anguish and despair and it tangs the air around them with something putrid and horrible. Joseph’s  own scent, pine trees and dew, is laden with anger and irritation and it does not help the atmosphere around them. James seems to catch onto all this and he eyes them all with growing discomfiture.

 

“I never got the chance to thank you for saving my life, sir. Thank you so much. Without you… I’d never be here, not alive, not in the least. I don’t know how I can repay you, sir, nothing I do could be good enough, but if there’s anything I can do please let me know.” His tone drips with sincerity and Joseph’s  heart swells with pride. This kid makes him so happy, so proud and Joseph is glad he saved his life. He did the world a huge favour.

 

“Trust me when I say, that you don’t need to thank me for saving our life, James. You are a real hero and the army needs you. Please don’t thank me for it and disrespect me like that.” He leans forward and squeezes his left shoulder gently and James immediately tenses. Joseph furrows his eyebrows at the movement but doesn’t question it, waits for the brunette to speak.

 

“I got discharged from the army, sir. Lost my left arm oversees, so, they sent me home with a metal one and an honourable discharge.” He says it in one breath, not stopping for a second to second guess himself and stop.

 

But Joseph’s  heart does stop at the news. Constricts and hurt inside his chest. After everything he did to save the kid, he missed out on one. Staying back. He was not there to watch his son’s back and he got injured. Because of him, because Joseph came back home and left James there amidst gunfire and bombs.

 

“James if you need-” Joseph starts but James interrupts him.

 

“Sir, please don’t pity me. You of all people… please don’t.” he puts his right hand up as a stop signal and Joseph nods and hangs his head. He takes a deep breath and looks away from James, his gaze instead falling on Steve who stands away in a corner, his eyes trained on the floor but mind elsewhere. And an idea strikes him. If he couldn’t take care of James then, maybe somebody could now.

 

“You asked me if there was anything you could do for me. Does the offer still stand?” he asks the brunette, who immediately raise his head and nods, his scent growing stronger with confusion.

 

“Of course, sir.”

 

“Then marry my son.”

 

**

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Marriage is a Contract

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joseph blackmails Steve into accepting the proposal, which complicates Steve's standing with James, whom he is getting to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the overwhelming response to the first chapter. Thank you for every kudos, every comment and every hit, your encouragement means a lot to me. Hope you enjoy the update, though, I must warn you, all updates will not be this regular.

**4th of March 2020**

 

“What?” a deep voice pulls Steve out from his own musings and he looks up towards the tall brunette. The alpha is strong and handsome, but, the detail only crosses Steve's head for a moment. Instead it’s the look of absolute doubt and confusion in the alpha’s eyes, as he stares at Steve's father, that catches his attention.

 

He straightens up from his position against the wall and looks on intently at the two men in front of him as the strong scent of dark chocolate surrounds them.

 

“You heard me perfectly the first time around James. I asked you to marry my son.” Joseph spoke calmly, his voice not betraying what his scent did. Desperation, doubt and hope.

 

He makes Steve nauseous, sick and very angry.

 

“Sir, I…” the brunette started, his face having lost his colour at the words, but Joseph interrupted him.

 

 

“You’re not going back on your word, are you? You said if there is anything you can do and now, I'm asking you do this. Marry my son.”  He smiled at James and Steve saw James’ eyes widen at the smile.

 

“What? How can you make such a proposition without asking me?” He takes a step forward in anger and feels his fists clench against his wishes. He looks up at the brunette who is looking at the floor in shame and then at his father who looks at him with a clam and straight face.

 

“Steve, my son,” he begins with a cruel smile, “this is none of your business. I'm your father and the alpha of the house and I'm making a decision. You will comply with it, whether you like it or not. Do we understand each other?”

 

“No, we don’t, father. It is my business, because it is my life. You cannot make decisions for me without consulting me. Just because you're an alpha doesn’t mean you make my decisions for me nor does it mean I'm bound to listen to you. And father? You haven’t been a father all these years and suddenly you become one. It doesn’t work like that. So, take your proposal and shove it where the son don’t shine.” He screamed at his father and walked out of the suffocating house, the scent of dark chocolate drenched in embarrassment following him.

 

He steps out on to the porch and takes a deep breath, wills his hands to stop shaking and his breathing to even out. He feels guilty for yelling at his father, but he can’t feel guilty about the things he said. All his life he's been hearing the same things. How alphas make the rule. How the omegas listen and obey, don’t question or ask. He's tired of it all, of the patriarchy and its rules, of their world and its archaic customs.

 

For once, he wishes he was an alpha, left to his own free will.

 

Behind him the door to the house opens and the scent of dark chocolate wafts out. Steve doesn’t turn around to greet the brunette instead starts walking down the porch.

 

“Steve, please wait.” He calls out to him, but Steve doesn’t stop, just continues on his way, faster then before, not sure if he could handle talking to the man and not punching him in the face.

 

“Steve, please. I'm requesting you to wait and listen to me.” The brunette sounds sincere and despite Steve's wishes, he stops and turns.

 

He crosses his arms across his chest and looks up ta the brunette. He doesn’t return the small smile he gives him and taps his foot impatiently against the concrete. The smile disappears from the soldier’s face as he hangs in head in shame, his demeanour screaming embarrassment.

 

And that shocks Steve.

 

“I'm sorry for what happened inside. I'm really sorry for being the reason for your fight with your father.” Steve scoffs at that. As if this man was the reason Steve and Joseph had been butting heads. But he did loosen his posture a little at the apology, at the sincerity in the man’s voice. He took a step towards the young man and let his arms drop from his chest.

 

“Trust me it isn’t your fault. My dad and I… well we’ve never gotten along. It’s not new. Don’t blame yourself.”

 

The soldier lifted his head and looked at Steve with guilty eyes. He took a deep breath and sighed softly, a soft breeze carrying the sound away from them both. He looked away from Steve and at the neighbour’s tree before continuing.

 

“Your father saved my life in the battlefield. Took a bullet for me. I owe him my life, Steve and in return he’s asking me to marry you. You must understand that I cannot refuse, not after what he did for me. But I know he will not go through with this if you refuse. Please speak to him, tell him why it’s a bad idea. He’ll listen to you.” His voice is soft as the look in his eyes and Steve feels himself feeling bad for the man. He did not know how manipulative Joseph could get, didn’t know the price he would ask for his life. He was trapped in a situation from where there was no getting out. He'd given his word to Joseph and going back on it was a fate worse than death.

 

And he isn’t sure if he wants to tell the man that no matter what, Joseph will not listen to Steve. Will not back out from this just because Steve said so. That’s not the relationship Steve has with his father. Instead now that Joseph knows how much Steve hates this, he’ll probable mov heaven and earth to make it happen, use manipulation and force if necessary. But he doesn’t want to tell all this to an absolute stranger, doesn’t want him to see Steve as some sort of a distressed damsel or Joseph as some supervillain, no matter how much of it he actually was.

 

He took a deep breath and thought about his next words, of how much he hated his own words.

 

“My father and I…we don’t have a normal relationship, in fact we don’t have a relationship. He can’t force me to do anything I don’t want and this marriage is one of those. There will be no marriage, I promise you that. There's no way he can convince me to marry you, come what may.”

 

For the first time, the brunette smiled genuinely, his lips parting in the most beautiful way and crinkles appearing in the corner of his eyes. He reached forward and squeezed Steve’s hand gently before smiling at him again and letting go.

 

“It’s really nothing against you, Steve. It’s just that we do not know each other and..” he hesitated as a faint blush coloured his cheeks pink and he ducked his head with a shy smile, “and I'm a romantic, you know. Dating, love, marriage, I want the whole deal. I've never had that.”

 

He smiled shyly at Steve again and Steve's heart did something funny at the smile.

 

“Well best of luck with that. May you find that person soon.”

 

James smiled at him again and left. Walked out of there fast and without turning back even once. Steve watched him go and couldn’t help replaying the whole conversation in his head.

 

James, the alpha. The one who felt guilt, embarrassment and shy. An alpha who apologised to an omega, spoke to Steve with respect and one who took time to reassure Steve that for once the problem was not with him. Those qualities in an alpha were not rare, but they were uncommon and Steve couldn’t help but wonder in what other ways this alpha could surprise him.  

**

Steve went back inside, took a deep breath and stood in front of his smoking father. He fought the urge to cough at the revolting smell, but held it in till it passed. His eyes watered at the effort and he could see his father trying not to smile at his discomfort.

 

Joseph stubbed the cigarette out in an ash tray and took a sit on the couch, gesturing for Steve to sit in the one across from him. The blonde shook his head and stood his ground, glaring at his father as they each waited for the other to speak.

 

“Why?” he questioned, his voice low and tone icy. Joseph looked at him and rolled his eyes. He crossed his legs on eon top of the other and leaned sideways to take a new cigarette.

 

“Because I like him.” He curtly replied as he lit a new smoke and took a puff. He blew the smoke out in Steve's direction and chuckled cruelly when Steve coughed.

 

“Oh, yeah? And not because you hate me?” the blonde wheezed out before he went on another coughing spree. His father chuckled again, uncrossing his legs and leaning both his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands, mouth twisting into a mocking grin.

 

“Oh, you poor boy. Not everything is about you. In fact, the world does not revolve around a poor sickly omega. Huh? Not surprising at all.”

 

“Why a marriage proposal? And if you like him so much, why do you want him to marry me, your ‘not son’?” he questioned back, smiling when his father looked thrown for a moment.

 

But it didn’t last long. Joseph took another puff of the cigarette and blew it out towards the side, looking pleased with himself when he saw the surprised look in Steve's eyes.

 

“It’s true that I hate you and love him a little too much. Also, true that no alpha could ever want you. But, you see, you’re a good omega. Or at least you can be one. You’re gonna take care of him for me, Steve. Make sure he's well looked after, fed and taken care of. If he wants you to be his good little house wife, you will be and if he wants a child, you will give it to him. This is not for you, it’s for him. He's my son and you're gonna make sure he’s happy.”

 

Steve froze in his spot. His own father…

 

The words he'd always wished he'd never have to hear, spoken to him by his own father. He fought back tears and shook his head violently to clear the bad thoughts away.

 

No. just because he was an omega did not mean that all he was good at was cooking and cleaning and being a house wife. He could do so much more than warm somebody’s bed or keep them happy. He wasn’t just a baby making machine, he was an illustrator, an artist. He wasn’t born to be somebody’s housewife, neither was he going to be. His father could dream all he wants, but there was no way Steve was gonna conform to the ways of this world, of the patriarchy.

 

“None of that is going to happen, father. Try all you want, but you can’t make me marry him, make me walk down the aisle with him on the other side. I won’t do anything I don’t want to do and being his bitch is not something I want.” His voice didn’t waiver as he spoke and he was proud of himself. He stood firm and proud in front of his father and refused to look away when he met his father’s strong gaze.

 

“That is what you think, Steve. But what if I make you an offer you can’t refuse?”

 

“No offer will change what I said, father.” He didn’t look away from his father, even as apprehension clouded his scent. He knew his father and his manipulative ways. Had dealt with them since adolescence. But he couldn’t succumb now as he had done then. There was no going back if he married James, no redos.

 

 

“But listen to what I have to offer. Your mother has chosen me over you. Has refused to go away and live with you and has also refused to meet you again. But, if you marry James and keep him happy the way I asked you to, I might ask her to reconsider. In fact, if you beg James well enough, maybe give him a little incentive, he might even let your mother come and live with you guys. Away from me and my cruel ways. And I will let her go with you. But, on the contrary, if you still aren’t convinced and do not want to marry James, your mother will continue to live with me, you won’t get to see her or talk to her and well you know, I'm a cruel, abusive man. Who knows what will happen to your mom. If she will get hurt, if she’ll cry or if one day, she just can’t take it anymore and just dies. Who knows, am I right Steve?” he flicked the cigarette away and called out to his wife, while Steve stood there in shock. He couldn’t believe his father had swooped that low, had blackmailed him with his mother.

 

He watched as his mother walked into the living room and looked at them both in fear before turning towards Joseph.

 

“There are cigarette butts all over the fucking floor. Do I look like I wanna live in a dump, huh? Is this why I married you, so that I could do all the cleaning myself? Fucking answer me, instead of standing her like a dumb idiot. Are you gonna clean it, or should I?” he barked at his mother and Steve felt himself flinch at the tone.

 

Sarah immediately fell to her knees and picked up the cigarette butt, putting it away in the ash tray and carrying the ash tray away. Before leaving she looked back at Steve once, grief and sadness making her eyes look paler than Steve had ever seen them be and Steve made a decision then and there, for his mother, he'd do anything. Even marry the devil if it came to that.

 

He took a deep breath, thumbed away the few tears that had slipped down his cheeks and looked at his monster of a father.

 

“I will do it. I’ll marry him if that’s what you want. But you’ll keep your end of the bargain, let my mother be happy and you will not hurt her anymore. Do you understand?” he shook a finger at his father and in return his father nodded.

 

His face split into a delighted smile and he got up from the couch to come and stand in front of Steve. He took hold of Steve's face and tilted it up, so they could look at each other when he spoke.

 

“For the first time since you were born, you’ve made me happy son. Now, in a similar manner, make James happy. He deserves it. Poor boy has gone through so much. He deserves happiness Steve. Lots of happiness.”

 

For the first time, Steve heard a softness in his father’s voice. Love and empathy in that harsh voice. But it wasn’t addressed towards him, not even towards his mother. It was for a stranger; a man Joseph had known for just over a year. However, instead of making him angry, it made him sad.

 

All his life he does so much to make his father happy and eventually all he had to do was get married and be a bitch to some man…

 

He closed his eyes at the surge of embarrassment and humiliation and almost missed his mother’s quiet entry back into the room.

 

She entered with a broom and made her way towards the cigarette ash scattered on the floor. Before she could put the broom to the floor, Joseph took a step back from Steve and took Sarah in his arms. He swooped in and kissed her and when they parted, he took the broom from her and gave her another kiss.

 

“No need, sweetheart. You go take some rest and I’ll handle this. After all it was my mess.”

 

Sarah gaped in shock at his warm tone and loving gesture but she didn’t budge. Joseph leaned down and kissed her again, swooping her up in his arms and placing a soft kiss to her forehead. Sarah smiled with tears in her eyes at the gesture. In all the time they’d been married… after all these years of abuse and humiliation…

 

She looked at Steve and smiled before she threw her arms around her husband’s neck and held him tightly. Steve knew the gesture for what it was, so did Joseph. Joseph turned towards Steve and smiled, not a happy smile like that of Sarah’s, but a threatening one, a frightening one. Steve knew what that was too, didn’t need to be told.

 

_Don’t let me go, don’t change back to the man you were. Please stay. Please hold me like forever._

 

_Break your word and I break her heart and a few bones…_

 

And Steve knew which gesture to understand and which to follow.

 

**

**5th of March 2020**

 

He watched as people came and went, never stopping to sit but taking their coffee to go. He sat in a corner booth by himself, waiting for his _fiancé_ to show up. There was hardly anybody else at the cafe, just a couple in the chairs by the door and the cute barista who had flashed Steve a kind smile when she came to give him his change back.

 

By the time she flashed him her third sympathetic smile of the day, Steve had had enough. He knows he fucking messed up. He knows he went back on a promise, a pretty huge one at that, but he wasn’t trying to hurt James. He'd called James immediately after the deal with his father, or rather Joseph had called him and Steve had taken over, and requested him to meet at the café. James had sounded pissed on the phone, if not a little heartbroken, and Steve knew he had to be the biggest asshole on the earth at that point. But he didn’t feel guilty about taking his father’s proposal, didn’t feel bad about the agreement that they had worked out, but he did feel bad about the tinge of hurt he heard in James’ voice.

 

The door to the café swung open then and James strode in. Dressed head to toe in black, he looked overtly handsome in the soft sunlight streaming in through the doors. Steve had earlier taken note of the fact that James was easy on the eyes, but that he was drop dead gorgeous, that had just settled in.

 

He stood up awkwardly as the brunette walked in and extended an arm for him to shake. James brushed past his arm and say down, gaze anywhere but at Steve and took a deep breath.

 

“Why did you want to meet?” he questioned in a cold voice, finally looking over at Steve as he took his seat.

 

Steve smiled at him, a little tentatively, but he didn’t return the smile. He raised an eyebrow in question and Steve sighed inwardly. This wasn’t going well.

 

James’ dark chocolate scent was a bit stale, agitation and irritation swirling in it and it made Steve’s anxiety spike a little. Had the café been a little more crowded, they would’ve drawn attention towards themselves, both with their sour scents and sour demeanours.

 

The blonde leans forward a little, folds his arms on the table between them and looks James in the eye, trying to convey sincerity through his eyes and words.

 

“James, I'm sorry. I…” he doesn’t get to finish, before James puts a hand up and stops him from continuing.

 

“Can it, Steve. I really don’t care about your apology.” The alpha growls in a rough voice, his agitated demeanour peaking through his scent and his gaze. The barista looks at Steve with worry when the scent reaches her but he smiles reassuringly at her and turns to James, tries to keep his scent and tone neutral as he speaks.

 

“Please. Listen to what I've to say.”

 

“Okay, I'm listening. Now give me a good reason why you went back on the word you gave me. Give me a good reason as to why you said something to me and went and did the exact opposite of that. Tell me why you and your dad suddenly became close enough for you to do exactly as he says.” The alpha lowers his voice and gains back control of his tone, his scent subsiding a little to convey only mild inconvenience and curiosity.

 

And Steve froze.

 

There was a good reason for what Steve did. For the decision he made. For the sacrifice he was willing to make. But he didn’t want to tell James any of that. Didn’t want James to know of his father’s abusive tendencies. Didn’t want James to know that his mother’s happiness and possibly her very life hinged on their marriage. He didn’t want to tell James about his mother’s refusal to see him or her rejection of Steve’s help. He didn’t want James to be privy of the deal he had made with his father, how he had blackmailed him, how Steve was and always would remain his father’s little bitch. Did not want to acknowledge to James, or to himself for that matter, that Steve's dad loved James more and not Steve. Did not want to tell James that Steve Rogers had no place in his parents’ life without being James’ spouse.

 

“I just changed my mind, that’s all.”  So, he didn’t. He didn’t tell him about anything. Just folded and refolded his arms and took a shaky breath without meeting James’ eye.  

 

“You changed your mind? Steve, I was honest with you. I told you about how much I wanted a real relationship, a loved one, an actual marriage. That’s honesty. What you're telling me now? That’s a lie. A fucking lie.” James drops his voice further, as he searches Steve's eyes for something. There’s a touch of concern and empathy, even as he calls Steve out on his bullshit. Steve doesn’t meet his eye, just leans back in his seat and pulls his hands into his lap.

 

“Does it matter, James. You owe your life to my dad and he's asking you to marry me. It’s not the end of the world, stop making it sound like it. It’s not that big of a deal.” He speaks in one breath, a whoosh of air that leaves his lungs before the words do. He focuses his gaze on a spot of dried coffee at the centre of the table and subtly smells the change of scents around him.

 

His scent is a little chaotic, a hint of apprehension to it.

 

James’ is pissed. Red hot and sizzling in the air around them.

 

“Sure. They’re not. Just some fucked up fantasies of a dude who lost his mind in Afghanistan. Let’s talk business, shall we?” he grits out and from his peripheral vison, Steve can see him glare. Can almost feel it scald his skin, his hair.

 

“Yeah. That’s why we’re here, aren’t we?” he shrugs and shifts in his seat to get comfortable. He looks at James and gestures for him to go on.

 

“I think we need to agree on some ground rules regarding our _marriage_. Just some basic do and don’ts.”

 

“Ground rules? You’re making it sound like some deal or something.” Steve chuckles a bit to relieve the tension in air, but it doesn’t get any reaction from James. He just looks Steve in the eye, his gaze intimidating and piercing, and answers in a cold, hard voice, tone dripping with challenge.

 

“Well, isn’t it?”

 

And Steve swallows and keeps quiet. There's no contradicting that tone, that voice, that argument. He's never been one to back down from a challenge, from a fight, but this didn’t seem, like one. This seemed like the only moment of truth so far in their interaction, an anchor for the rest of the conversation. At the end of the day, it was the truth. It was a fucking deal, an agreement, a promise. A fucked-up man, his fucked up not-son and a poor unassuming young man who got trapped in their family drama. That was what this was. A deal between those three.

 

There was nothing more to it, nothing humane, nothing personal, nothing intimate.

 

Steve sighs quietly and nods, sinks back a little in his seat and keeps his head up and forward.

 

“As I was saying, some ground rules. I’ll list mine first, then you can air your objections and anything else you might want to add. The ones we mutually agree on will be followed, others discarded or debated upon. Okay?”

 

“Okay.” He nods and James continues.

 

“Then let me start. Number one, there will be no grand wedding celebration or reception. We’ll be married at the court. Second, since we’ll be required to live together, we will live at my house. You may take the guest bedroom. Third, you’re responsible for your own mess, laundry and food. Stock the fridge with whatever you want to eat, eat it whenever you want. We’ll try to stay away from each other and each other’s life as much as possible. Fourth, if your friends are coming over, please warn me at least an hour in advance. If we must pretend to be a couple in front of them, warn me at least a day in advance. Fifth, mating cycles.” He paused for a deep breath and Steve held his own breath subconsciously.

 

 “I will leave the house during your heat and I expect the same of you during my rut. This one I'm afraid is non-negotiable and extremely important just like the next one. If either of us meets someone else, someone we can see a future with, then the other must agree to a divorce.”

 

He looks at Steve as he waits for the rules to sink in and the last two to make sense. James was not asking Steve to have kids with him, wasn’t even asking Steve to get him through his rut. He wasn’t assuming he got to fuck Steve through his heat either and nor was he denying either of them a chance at another relationship.

 

Steve stares at James in wonder, questioning, all he knows, as to why James was different. First the apologies, the blushing, the shyness. Then it was the thoughtfulness, the chivalry, the gentlemanly nature.

 

Given their situation, he could have easily demanded Steve to spend his heat with him or forced him to take him through his rut. He could have easily cut off Steve's relations with his friends or imposed a one-sided monogamy on him. Or at the very least, demand that Steve do all the household chores, be his good little housewife.

 

But he hadn’t. and Steve was eternally thankful. For everything, for James.

 

 

“That’s it. Any objections or suggestions?” James questioned, when Steve stayed silent for too long.

 

“Uh…no, I guess.” He shook his head and smiled shyly at the brunette. He leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table, mind still whirling from the freedom it had been given.

 

James had never looked more handsome.

 

“Okay well think it over. I've got to go, now.” James stood up immediately and Steve's heart panicked a little. He didn’t want James to leave right now, not when he was finally getting to know the man a little more. Was finally understanding that he wasn’t a bastard like his father. He wanted James to stay, to discuss this more, possibly become friends in the process. If they were going to be husbands, the least they could do was be friends.

 

He grabbed James’ bicep and looked at him with big blue eyes.

 

“Maybe you should stay for a cup of coffee. Their coffees are mind blowing.”

 

“Steve, please don’t interpret this as a friendly chat. If there is a person, I hate the most at this moment, it is you.”  James shook his hand off and turned away in disgust, his face twisting into a scowl at the action. Steve jerked back a little at the action, flinched at the words, but managed to not fall backwards completely. His mind and body reeled in that moment, repeating it over and over again in his head. By the time he regained his composure James had left the café and the stench of rotten dark chocolate and putrid vanilla was clogging the café.

 

The barista looked over at him, golden eyes shining with concern and sympathy, but Steve couldn’t stand it anymore. He stood up and left too, images of hate-filled grey eyes burned into his skull.

 

He didn’t blame James for it. He couldn’t.

 

**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read, leave kudos, comment and tell me how can I improve, what did you like from the chapter and how excited you are for the wedding. You're also free to tell me you hate the chapter ending or suggest ways to kill Joseph...


	3. Home is Where My Ma is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and the kudos guys. You're really encouraging me to keep writing and not give up midway. Thank you so much and hope you enjoy this very short update.

  **8 th of March 2020 **

_“Steve, dear, what’s wrong?” Steve jolts out of his thoughts at his mother’s voice. He turns towards her, standing at the door to his room, hands clasped in front of her and face the poster child for worry. He doesn’t know how he missed her entry into his room, especially when her scent is as stale it is with worry and anguish._

_“Nothing ma, nothing’s wrong.” He shifts on his bed and pulls himself up on it from where he was sitting at the edge. In movies and the books that he has read, that is the cliché position for a character to brood in: sitting at the edge of the bed, elbows on their knees and face in their palms and Steve always finds himself imitating that._

_“Are you sitting in the dark crying because nothing is wrong? That doesn’t seem right, honey.” She enters and sits next to him, back against the headboard and legs up on the bed. Steve shifts closer to her without meaning to and Sarah mirrors him immediately._

_“It’s nothing really. Go to sleep ma, you must be tired.” He gestures vaguely to the door, even as he leans towards her._

_“Tell me what’s wrong, Steve, I'm your mother, I deserve that much, at least right?” she questions quietly and Steve's thoughts freeze. He hasn’t heard her say that in so long. Ever since his 18 th birthday, ever since his father disowned him, he's never heard his mother say these words to him. Hasn’t seen her this concerned where he is concerned._

_He swallows back the sob that threatens his throat and blinks back the tears that die to escape._

_“You deserve the world, ma. You deserve much better than what you’ve got.” He replies quietly, his voice wobbly and rough with unshed moisture._

_A charged silence follows the words, both omegas lost in their own heads. Steve doesn’t regret what he said, can’t, not when he knows the trauma his ma has undergone under his brute of a father, but that doesn’t mean he has any right to point that out to her. He remembers what happened the last, can’t forget the moment his mother chose his father over him, and that should’ve taught him not to meddle anymore, should’ve taught him to keep his opinions to himself and be happy he gets to sit next to her and lean on her for support. Be happy, she still cares about him, his problems._

_“Is that why my son is sacrificing his dreams, hopes and youth for me? Because I didn’t get what I deserve?” Sarah’s whisper breaks the silence into a million shreds and stuns Steve into a prolonged silence. His mom was never supposed to know, was never to be privy to his deal with his father, was not meant to be made to feel like all this was her fault. He curses the asshole whose last name he bears and turns to look at his mother, face blank and as innocent as he can make it to be._

_“What are you talking about ma? I'm doing nothing of that sort.”_

_“I'm not an idiot, honey. I can read between the lines when one day my husband starts being nice to me and simultaneously my son agrees to marry a man he doesn’t know. You don’t have to do this for me, Stevie. I’ve handled him so long, I can do it some more.”_

_Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me; but those words did hurt Steve. Broke and trampled his heart. His mother, his poor mother. What she had undergone at the hands of his father, what she has lived through, what she is promising to handle in the future, is not something any mere individual could’ve gone through. Sarah was a strong woman, had raised Steve to be strong too, but she was trapped in a cruel world, bound by the shackles of tradition, custom and misogynistic opinions. A bonded omega separating from her mate was unheard of, especially one who bore her alpha a son and one as old as Sarah. Divorce was unheard of between mates, especially ones who had lived together so long. The court would demand reasons and the whole world would come to know of the atrocities his mother endured. However, that would not mean that they would understand, that his mother would not be ostracized, be shunned in a society where divorce was the devil._

_The tears he had fighting finally won and cascaded down his face in a victory dance. His lips wobbled as he faced his mother and his hands shook as he tried not to fist them and take that fist to his father’s face._

_“You shouldn’t have to, mom. If there is a chance you don’t have to go through that again, I'm gonna make sure I take it. You deserve to not have to ‘handle’ him.”_

_“Stevie, you don’t have to be so strong for me, not when it’s hurting you so much. Your father won’t hurt me, I promise. I won’t let him hurt me. You don’t have to do this for me, honey. Please.” She wiped away his tears even as her own fell._

_And that was his mother, always had been. Wiping away Steve's tears, even as her fell. Teaching Steve to be strong, even as she got weaker day by day. Asking Steve to stand up for himself, even as she fell. Asking Steve to have faith, even as she lost hers. Asking him to be everything she wanted to be, but couldn’t be. Wanting him to be nothing like her, even if it rained misery upon her, killed her._

_He pulled her closer, or maybe she did, but they were in each other’s arms, seeking the strength, the solace they'd always found in each other. Tears streamed down their faces, intermixed, mingled, intertwined with the other’s as they made their way down, just like their fates were, their very life was. Steve held his mother tightly, closer than he ever had and sobbed into her thin shoulders, not sure how he had gone so long without this familiar warmth, her familiar scent._

_“But I do, mom. Because he hates you so much because of me. Because I'm skinny and thin and weak. Because I'm not the alpha son he wanted. Because I could never make him proud of me. I'm a failure in his eyes, mom, and because of me, so are you. If I do this tomorrow, then you get to have a better life, a life you would’ve had, had I not been born. And I really want you to have that, come what may.” He said, his voice muffled by the fabric of her dress, even as the determination carried through._

_“I don’t want a life where you’re not born as my son, Stevie. I'm proud of you, my love. Proud of the man you’ve grown up to be, proud of the son I've raised, the fighter that was born to me. What he thinks or feels doesn’t matter, honey, you make my life the best its ever been. You make it better by just being in it.” She pulled back and looked him in the eye, wiped away any tears that the cloth hadn’t soaked up and pressed a small kiss to his forehead. She smiled at him and he returned it, and albeit the tears that still shone in their eyes and lingered on their cheeks, the smiles were not unhappy ones._

_“Thanks mom. Thank you so much…” he whispered softly, not wanting to disturb the tranquillity that had settled between them. he leaned against his mother’s shoulder again, hid his face in her neck and took a deep breath, breathing her scent in, inhaling the grounding sweetness of it, taking in the memories of past bullies at the playground to rude alphas on the streets. Her scent and this position are a constant in all of those. After every fight, every bruise, every broken nose, he would always return here, back to his mother, back to the loving embrace that’s always waiting for him. No matter what he undergoes, she’s always been his rock, his constant, his home…_

_So, it’s not surprising that on a day like today, less than 12 hours away from his ‘marriage’, he needs his mother and needs her badly. He takes another breath and it all comes tumbling out._

_The thoughts that have kept him awake the past few days, the fears he has for his future, the dreams and hopes that he has buried in the past, the apprehension of living with a stranger, the inherent fears of being reduced to an alpha’s mate and nothing else, James’ declaration of hate, his father’s declaration of hate, his mother’s plight. His own poor sodden luck, his own sickly omega self, his unsure and unsafe artistic career, his life…_

_With the scary thoughts, comes the salty tears and the broken sobs. Before he knows it, he's wheezing for breath, his airways are blocked and every breath seems like a stone in his throat. He tries to breath in, tries to fill his pathetic lungs with oxygen, air, anything, but all it does is hurt him some more, induce more tears, more sobs._

_“It’s okay, honey. Breathe, c’mon Stevie. Breathe with me.” He can hear his mom’s voice, too close but too far and he subconsciously tries to follow the voice. He feels her breathe in and out and does the same on autopilot, his chest rising and falling identical to hers. As he breathes in, he can smell her scent, calm, soothing, at peace and it makes him feel so much better. It’s a comforting smell of familiarity, of solidarity, of care, of maternity and above all of love. It’s safety and security and Steve finds himself calming down gradually, taking deeper breaths, steadying himself, coming back to himself. But he doesn’t let up from his slump, isn’t ready to move away from his mother just yet._

_“There you go, baby, feeling better?” Sarah rubs his back gently. Her small palm just sliding down his back in broad swipes from the nape to the small of his back, the motion so rhythmic and periodic that he finds himself going boneless, melting into his mother’s side. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was still holding and feels any lingering tension drain away._

_“Yeah. Can I ask you something?” he doesn’t raise his head to look at his ma, just closes his eyes and tries to imagine the face she must be making right now. Face stoic, a bare hint of smile at her lips and blue eyes drowning in unshed tears and worry._

_“Sure.”_

_“Was dad always like this, angry, abusive, unkind?” he squeezes his eyes shut tighter, tries not to inhale his ma’s scent too deeply. He braces himself to be pushed away, just like she had a couple of days ago, and for the scent to go stale and putrid. But none of that happens, the scent remains the same, her hands still rub warmth and love into his body and she still keeps him pressed close to herself. When she starts speaking, Steve can feel the vibration till his very core._

_“No. He was very kind, loving, always so cheerful. Used to take me on the sweetest dates ever, always bought me those red roses I used to like. Would tell me daily about how much he liked the blue of my eyes and red of my cheeks. I would blush like crazy upon hearing it and he would chuckle at that. He was one of the best men I knew.” She sighed forlornly at the past, the gush of breath leaving Steve breathless. He had never known… had always wondered why his mother loved such a cruel man, had put up with him all these years._

_He can not imagine the old Joseph, the one his mother is describing, cannot even begin to think that that man and his father are similar in any way. In the years that he can remember, he has always known joseph to be cruel, impolite, brash and violent and it is impossible to put the image of such a man with the one his ma describes: kind, loving, cheerful…_

_“What changed, ma? Why is he like this now?” a small part of him feels like it knows the answer, waits for it with bated breath. The less misogynistic part argues against it, tells him to be kinder to himself, a little braver and to trust in himself._

_The misogynist wins anyway…_

_“The war. It changes people, Stevie. Makes them cold and hard. It did the same to your father too. It made him afraid and paranoid and when he came back home from it one summer, all he could think about was having a son and continuing the family name. He was so scared that once he went back, he would never return and his family name would end with that. Get lost in oblivion. After that time, I've never seen him smile the way he used to. Hasn’t said a nice word to me in so long. It wasn’t you, darling, it was the war that made your father hate me. Don’t give yourself that credit.” She tells him softly, her voice steady but thoughts elsewhere, back in the old days, with the younger, kinder Joseph._

_The misogynist in him stills at the news, maybe sheds a tear or two. The other part of him jumps a little, smiles, maybe even claps. He didn’t do it, he's not the reason behind his father’s cruel jabs and violent streaks. He wasn’t the one who broke his parents’ relationship, isn’t the one who send his father off a destructive streak either._

_Before a smile can break out on his face, the less awake but smarter part of his brain catches up. The war broke his father, his parents’ relationship, his relationship with his father, the family that they could’ve been. He's heard of this, PTSD they'd called it at the mental health seminar he attended in high school, but he had never connected the dots with his father. But even as he understands the reason the man is the way he is, he can’t bring himself to forgive him for the things he’s done. War couldn’t excuse the atrocities Sarah and he have undergone under him, nothing ever could. But he doesn’t hate it any less. Hates it for all that it took away from him: his father, his mother, his happy family and his future._

_“Do you think war changes everyone?”_

_“No. Some are stronger than others, Stevie. They don’t succumb so hard and fast. They go through the hardships of war and come back stronger, more humane, more human than ever. Those are the people who don’t fight for themselves, for their own life, they fight for the people who are waiting for them back home, the hopes and dreams that they leave behind. Those people can’t be defeated by war, Stevie, they will always win.” She presses a small kiss to his temple and he nods a little into her shoulder._

_He knows what she’s saying. What they both are thinking. What plagues their minds, but what they both won’t ask. He thinks it anyway, despite his wish, his prayer, his hope._

_Didn’t his father also leave his wife behind? Didn’t he have hopes and dreams of starting a family with her? Didn’t he fight for them, their relationship, a family they could’ve had?_

_And then another face comes to mind, unbidden and forbidden. He doesn’t try to shake the image, lets it take over the back of his eyelids and waits for the full form to emerge before asking further._

_“Do you think James was strong enough? Do you think the war changed him?” he turns his head to the side, so it makes it easier for him to look at his mother’s face. She anticipates the movement, maybe even the question, and looks down at Steve's face, pushes a golden lock off his forehead and back as she smiles softly, almost mischievously._

_“Depends. Did he fight for himself or did he leave something behind?” she questions back, her gaze heavy on his own and he finds himself wanting to look away and hide. He doesn’t, just takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, turns her words over and over in his head and interposes some of it with the two conversations he’s had with the alpha._

_“He talked about wanting to date, wanting to fall in love and then have a wedding. Seemed pretty excited about it too. All shy and coy. Do you think they were enough to save him from war? Keep him the way he was?” the smile that pulls at his lips when he talks about the shy alpha, melts from his face at the mention of war. His voice goes a little anxious at the end, a little scared, a bit frightened at the prospect of the brunette in the midst of war and Sarah picks up on it because she immediately starts rubbing soothing circles on his back._

_“Maybe. If what you say is true and he was acting all coy and shy, then maybe war didn’t win against him, honey. Maybe he's still a good man. Maybe a great man.” She reassures immediately and feels Steve relax at the touch, melt into her side again._

_“He is ma, he really is.” He told her all about the conditions he put forward, the schedule for their mating cycles, the rules with the dating and the divorce. He feels himself glow as he talks about how understanding James was, how he didn’t want to push Steve into a sexual relationship even though he could’ve and how he's letting them both keep their dreams of a loved one open._

_As soon as he tells her, her words come back to him. James fought a war for his future, survived guns and bombs for his dreams, fought off soldiers and nightmares for his hopes and Steve destroyed them in a heartbeat. He cursed the war a while back for what it did to his family, how it destroyed the happy family that he could’ve had. A loving father and a happy mother, who were snatched away from him, without realising that he was the war in James’ narrative. James lost an arm for their country but still made it out alive to live the life he’d wanted, a love, a marriage, a family and Steve had destroyed it in a second, had made it all about himself and not about the young sarge who once had a dream._

_If Steve could blame the war for everything, then James could blame him._

_Had (rightfully) blamed him._

_“He sounds like a great guy, honey. Then why are you so upset? Why all the tears, Stevie?” he hadn’t realised he'd started crying, hadn’t even noticed the tears streaming down his cheeks. Sarah wipes them away softly, rubs under his eyes softly till he looks at her again and takes a steadying breath, tears still falling as reality washes over him._

****

**_“Does it matter, James. You owe your life to my dad and he's asking you to marry me. It’s not the end of the world, stop making it sound like it. It’s not that big of a deal.”_ **

****

**_“Sure. They’re not. Just some fucked up fantasies of a dude who lost his mind in Afghanistan.”_ **

****

****

****

****

**_“If there is a person, I hate the most at this moment, it is you.”_ **

****

****

_“Because he hates me ma. Hates that I ever agreed to this marriage. And he has every right to. I fucked up. Whatever kept him alive, brought him back home, I snatched it away. Threw it all away.” He wheezes as he talks, having always seen himself as the hero of his own story, he never expected to be turned into the villain of somebody else’s, little sobs and big tears still breaking out to the surface as he runs their last meeting in his head._

_Sarah rubs his back, places a soft kiss to his forehead and rests her chin at the top of his head, closes her eyes and pulls Steve a little closer, a little tighter._

_“He’ll forgive you, honey. He’ll come around, dear. The good guys do.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few important things about this chapter:  
> 1\. I'm not defending or excuse Joseph's character through PTSD. He is a horrible human being and deserves punches and other things you all and I want to do to him, but this is Sarah's POV. This is how she sees her husband, a poor guy who lost his way due to war.  
> 2\. I know this is a short chapter and probably shitty (I sincerely apologise for that) but I think it is important to the rest of the narrative, since this is the first time Steve is realising how bad he fucked up.  
> 3\. I love my mom, very much and this is how we are when I'm stressed or panicking. And I really wanted this scene to be there as a little tribute to my mom. 
> 
> Again, I'm sorry if the chapter sucks and you did not like it. 
> 
> Please comment, leave kudos, promote the story on social media and please keep reading. I really enjoy reading your comments. 
> 
>  
> 
> The fun part is beginning soon...


	4. An Honest Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY VERY IMPORTANT. PLEASE READ. PLEASE. 
> 
> Recently I received a comment. The comment pointed out that Joseph was not an asshole and that I had made him to be one, by placing him in a misogynistic setting. It basically said that I had created a world where only men could be alphas and that was the reason Joseph was a dick to Steve.  
> And that prompted me to go back and read the story to see where I'd insinuated such a thing. It was in the first chapter.  
> There is a line/paragraph which mentions how Joseph wants a son, so that he can grow up an alpha and join the military. I read it and for a second even I thought only men could be alphas. I sincerely apologise for that misconception, because that is not what I meant. 
> 
> In this universe, anybody can be an alpha, anybody can be an omega or a beta. What I wanted to convey was that in a comparison between primary genders, the society still perceives men to be superior to women, as in, if there is a male alpha and a female alpha, the male alpha will be considered superior because of his primary gender. 
> 
> Female alphas can be there, will be there, and I did not mean to convey that they would not be. Joseph wants a son and he wants the son to be an alpha. He does not want a son just to be an alpha; he wants an alpha son. 
> 
> In the country, that I'm from, this is a very common practice. Female infanticide, female foeticides are very common, because nobody wants a female child. She is construed to be a burden and I guess nobody wants to carry it. It's heartbreaking and cruel, and that was what i wanted to convey here. I'm sorry if that is not what came through. 
> 
> On a personal note, the comment did upset me, but it also pointed out a major flaw with the story. I thank the person who commented and I also apologise for deleting it. I was insensitive and not receptive to criticism, when I should've been. But, I'm also not gonna lie and say that it did not make me wanna quit. 
> 
> I'll try to go back and edit the story out a little to include all this, but, if on the off chance I don't, I want you guys to keep all this in mind. 
> 
> This chapter comes at the back of some major self doubt and self esteem issues, so it probably sucks and I apologise in advance. 
> 
> I also didn't mean to make such a huge deal out of a comment, but they have always been so important to me. They encourage me to keep writing and are probably the reason I update so frequently. I'm not trying to make anybody feel bad for anything, just clearing the air a little. 
> 
> Also, so sorry for the late update. nothing I wrote seemed good. 
> 
> So, sorry and thank you...

**_9 th of March 2020_ **

It was a beautiful day. The sun was bright and cheery and the birds chirped in a melody Sarah had not heard in a while. The court buzzed and bristled with the people inside, some police men in uniforms, others attorneys in suits and majority were common folks in their best attire. Sarah looked around her, the irony that it was a perfect day for a wedding not going unnoticed by her, as she tried to replaced the drabness inside with the colour outside.  

 

She looked at her son, sitting in a bench with a noose- tie hanging around his neck and his face pulled into the deepest scowl she had ever seen, and fought back a tear. This was never supposed to happen; her Steve was never supposed to be waiting at a court to marry a man he barely knew, just to keep her happy. He was supposed to find a partner who would sweep him off his feet, have a huge ass wedding and run off into the sunset like the actors in cheesy rom-coms did. He was supposed to be drowning in love and happiness, not in debt and grief.

 

Unable to take it anymore she walked out of the court, only to stop at the stairs leading out. On the top most step, lost in thought with a frown pulling on his features, sat James. His hair looked like he'd been running his hands through them the whole way over and his clothes were proof enough that he had spent the greater part of the day pacing back and forth.

 

She walked up to him and sat next to him, even the movement not pulling him out of his trance like state. She placed a hand on his shoulder, slowly and carefully, befitting a vet, and squeezed gently.

 

“James.” He jostled out of his thoughts, his arms immediately going for her wrists like reflex and looked at her like a deer caught in headlights. His already agitated scent had gone to panicked and back and all Sarah could do was flinch and duck. When it became clear that he wasn’t going to hit her, she smiled a little and tried to force her panicked scent to neutrality.

 

It seemed to do the trick after a minute or so. James dropped her wrist and gave her a small, embarrassed smile, his face opening minutely in familiarity and recognition.

 

“Oh. Good morning ma’am.” He shuffled back a little as if to make space for her to sit, even as his straight shoulders hunched a little as if screaming to be left alone. Sarah stood there for a second, contemplating and deciphering the young man in front of her and finally decided to sit down.

 

“Would it be appropriate for me to wish you a good morning too?” she asked quietly, studying his face intently.

 

 James opened his mouth to answer immediately, on reflex, but something in Sarah’s expression stopped him, killed the instinctual answer on his tongue.

 

“No ma’am, I don’t think it would be.” He answered softly, his deep voice too quiet to be heard outside the little bubble they were in.

 

“I'm sorry, James. I'm really sorry for all this.” And she means every word, every last letter.

 

She’s sorry for the dark circles under James’ eyes, the tears her son shed yesterday, the sour scents of both of them, for the nervous wrangling of James’ hands and the clenching and unclenching of Steve's. She’s sorry for Steve's sacrifice and James’ broken dreams. She’s sorry on behalf of her cruel husband, and on behalf of herself, a voiceless wife. She’s sorry for the veteran James and her son, Steve.

 

“I'm sure it’s not your fault.” She looks at him and he gives her a small smile, his shoulders opening again. He places a hand over her own and squeezes softly, gives her a brighter smile when the action doesn’t put a smile on her face.

 

 

“Trust me when I say I'm more to blame than anybody else.” She urges, her voice going higher than before, her demeanour that of a confessing accused.

 

Because, she is to blame. She is to be blamed for ever falling in love with a brute like Joseph. She is to be blamed for ever marrying him and mating with him. She is to be blamed for letting him kill three of her children even before they had a chance to be born. She is to blamed for putting up with his abusive ways and never walking away. She is to be blamed for ever letting him touch Steve. She is to be blamed for letting his madness get blown to such degrees. She is to be blamed for not taking her son’s side. She is to be blamed for choosing Joseph over Steve. She is to be blamed for wanting her husband’s affection more than her son’s happiness.

 

And in the quiet of the night, as she stares at the ceiling of her bedroom, she can quietly admit to herself that she is to blame for trying to convince her son that the war changed Joseph, that he was ever a good man, that he ever loved her. Because he never was. He was never a good man, he never loved her and the war had no role to play in making him the cruel, heartless monster he was. Because when she blames the war, she doesn’t have to blame herself. Doesn’t have to admit to Steve that she is a basic omega at the end of the day, bound to her mate despite the cruelties, that she can’t leave because she doesn’t know what to do without Joseph, how to live without him, how she’s still desperate for her mate’s love, approval…

 

 

“Forgive me if I find that hard to believe.” James’ voice pulls her out of her reverie and she shuts her eyes tightly to prevent tears. She ignores his comment and goes to the question she wanted to ask.

 

“Do you believe Steve is to blame?”

 

When he doesn’t answer for a while, she opens her eyes to look at him. James had turned away, his eyes on the steps in front of them, but mind elsewhere. There were questions in his eyes and doubts in the set of his lips. He took a deep breath and tried to run his hands down his face, only to realise he was still holding Sarah’s hand in his. He stared at the hand in wonder and she squeezed his hand. He looked at her immediately.

 

“He tried to convince me he is.” He said at last, his voice emotionless yet heavy with something else. She tried to decipher what it was, but failed miserably as he too forced his scent into neutrality.

 

“Did he succeed?”

 

“No. no ma’am, he didn’t. Something just doesn’t sit right, something does not seem right.” He confessed and Sarah jumped at the opportunity to tell him the truth.

 

 

“That’s because it’s not right. He's not to blame at all James. He's a victim to all this, just as you are.”

 

Before she could continue, James cut in, his tone urgent and voice deeper than before. A typical alpha growl, “Why? How?”

 

“If his father could manipulate you into doing this, how hard do you think it was for him to do the same to Steve?”

 

James’ face changed shades in front of her eyes, as the darkness of uncertainty and doubt gave way to the brightness of realisation. But the brightness was too short lived as the realisation fully sunk in and he realised his mistake. Sarah remembers Steve telling her about James’ cold attitude at the café and she knows he's feeling bad about that, at having told Steve that he hated him. She moves closer to him and pats his hand twice, smiles at him when he looks up. 

 

“I didn’t know- I'm so sorry.” He apologises fervently but she stops him with a hand on his shoulder and a small smile.

 

“It’s okay son. It’s not your fault. Just, please be kind to him. Don’t hate him for all this.”

 

_It’s okay son. It’s not your fault, it’s mine. Be kind to him, because his dad and I never were. Don’t hate him for all this, hate me because this is my selfishness. Don’t hate him, because hate is all he’s seen, all his life. Don’t hate him, because he doesn’t deserve it, I do._

But it all goes unsaid, unheard. She looks down in embarrassment and fights tears with all she has. James takes her hand of his shoulder and holds both her hands in his and smiles at her, waits till she lifts her head and smiles back at him, before speaking. 

 

“I don’t hate him, ma’am. I never have.  I'm really sorry for whatever happened, I really am.”

 

His voice drips with sincerity and for the first time since Joseph dropped this bomb on them, she’s at peace. Her son’s going to be safe with James, she knows it, can feel it in her bones. James is kind, soft-hearted and well behaved. Even if Steve can’t find his happiness with James, maybe he can find a friend, a corner he can always turn to. Even if twenty years of his life were a pile of shit, maybe the succeeding won’t be.

 

She trusts James, like a son, to be there for her son.

 

“No more ma’am, son. We’re family now, you can call me ma.”

 

And with the way his eyes sparkle with happiness and his scent sings, she knows she’d done the right thing. She probably didn’t deserve James, but maybe James did deserve a mother.

 

“Ma…” his voice wobbles dangerously and she feels it in her very core. He doesn’t have anyone and this broken, shitty family that he's been dragged into is his only one. She feels her heart ripping, her maternal instincts taking over. She moves closer to him and pulls him into her arms, lets him tuck his head into her shoulder and he lets her hold him, kindly, lovingly.  “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He mumbles and she shushes him, sways them side to side and pets his hair gently.  

 

“You're a good man James. Take care of yourself.”  She lets go of him and stands up, offers him a hand to do the same. He takes her hand and pulls himself up, looks her in the eye and smiles at her, all pearly whites on display.  

 

“You too ma- ma. You too…” and Sarah walks away, pretending not to see the lone tear that rolls down James’ eye at the term, at the word _ma…_

 

***

 

The day passes in a flurry of events. At some point he remembers signing the papers, remembers shaking hands with some guy who thought Steve and he made a great couple, remembers Joseph pulling him into a hug and saying something that felt eerily similar to family, remembers Steve watching his every move with apprehension and something else, remembers smiling at Sarah- ma and wishing her goodbye, remembers getting into his car and realising there would be another person sitting beside him now, remembers that he is a husband now and that he is married to Steve.

 

Steve…

 

An omega he hardly knows. A man he has seen a sum total of two times. A guy who he knows nothing about and who knows nothing about him. All he knows is that this whole marriage is a compromise, a situation they’ve both been manipulated into. He was trapped with a promise he couldn’t break, by a man to whom he owes his life. Steve was trapped, how he doesn’t know, but by his father no less.

 

He pauses with his key in the ignition and turns to look at Steve. The omega is a mess, to put it lightly, and it worries him. He doesn’t want to, but it does. Steve's scent is all over the place too: anxious, worried, sad, afraid…

 

“Are you scared of me, Steve?” he asks before he can stop himself, his eyes immediately widening at the realisation of what he just asked. He tries to avert his eyes, look anywhere but at Steve who looks like a deer caught in headlights, but the baby blue eyes of the blonde trap him, hold his gaze even in a haze of fear and embarrassment.

 

“What? No, I…” the blonde stammers and James knows he's right on the mark. He considers letting it go, but given the talk he's had with Sarah today, he just can’t. He doesn’t know their entire family history, hell he doesn’t know anything about their family, but he can take a wild guess… if Steve did not have a good relationship with the alpha he grew up with, then he should at least have a good relationship with the alpha he is going to be living with.

 

“You can lie, but your scent can’t. Why are you afraid?” he offers a friendly smile and keeps his face as open and welcoming as he can. Steve looks at him for a second and sighs resignedly, averting his eyes to look out the windshield.  

 

“I'm sorry. It’s just that, we decided on how we wanted to proceed with this marriage, but, what if we’re unable to stick with it? What if…”

 

And James knows what he is talking about. Can guess at least some of the fears that haunt him. They are the same fears that kept him up all night, made him go for a run at 3 in the morning. He wats till Steve looks back at him and gives him another smile, a little smaller than before, a little bit more strained.

 

“What if we actually never find the one and are stuck with each other forever?” he completes Steve's statement.

 

“Uh… yeah, I guess.” The blonde shrugs and goes to turn away but James stops him with his voice.

 

“Then I guess, we make the best out of it and be thankful we don’t have to die alone. I'm pretty great company, you know. Karaoke king, masterchef, hell they even call me hilarious huckster.” He used to be all that before the war. Now, he doesn’t know. Guess he’ll find out. He chuckles in an attempt to get Steve to loosen up, maybe believe him, but the blonde doesn’t even crack a smile, just looks at James with something indecipherable in his eyes before looking away and keeping mum.

 

James waits for him to say something, speak., even maybe just sigh. But Steve remains quiet, his demeanour aloof and even his scent goes unnaturally neural. The brunette exhales sharply and starts the car.

 

It’s another ten minutes before they speak again.

 

“Even if you hate me?” Steve's voice comes out as a tiny squeak, hardly audible, but it still shatters the uncomfortable silence that bad settled between them.

 

James remembered the coffee shop with a sudden jolt. He had been so cruel to Steve, had been an absolute bastard and taken out all his agitation on the poor guy. He'd been angry with Steve's dishonesty, he knew the omega was lying, but that hadn’t given him any right to express it in such a harsh manner. He remembers shaking off Steve's hand, saying how much he hated him and then storming off without looking back. He'd made an already upset guy, even more miserable.

 

_And of course, he was worried about that, he was afraid James would act on his hatred._

 “I'm sorry Steve. I really am. I was just a little shocked at the news and I didn’t process it well and then I took it out on you. I'm so sorry. I know I was an asshole and I sincerely apologise. Sorry.” He looks at Steve from the corner of his eye, but tries to keep his eyes on the road as much as possible. He hopes his voice is sincere enough and that Steve will forgive him.

 

“It was not your fault, James-” the blonde begins, but James interrupts him.

 

“No, none of that. It was my fault and I should have never said those things to you. Maybe you can accept my apology and we can move on?”

 

“Apology accepted. Friends?” Steve asks a little tentatively and James cringes ta the fear that still lingers. He checks to see if the road ahead of them is clear and then turns his head sideways to smile brightly at Steve.

 

He offers the blonde his hand to shake and grins in delight when he takes it.

 

“Friends.” He announces with a flourish and it is totally worth the embarrassment when Steve laughs and the air around them is cleared off the lingering stench of fear and apprehension.

 

***

 

The rest of the way they spend in companionable silence. Steve spends his time staring out the window, marveling in the greenery, lapping up at the sight of cute dogs and beautiful people. James spends the time stuck in his own head.

 

It was easy to get lost in his head. It was second nature to lose himself in the dark images of his past, of his lost childhood, of his family, of his time in the army. But today he found himself getting lost in the man sitting beside him, in his past, his family, his unfortunate marriage.

 

James was a soldier and good at what he did. As a sergeant he was a role model to his comrades, a great sniper and a strategist. He was extremely good at observing enemy behaviour and he could plan and strategize around any given situation. Given his skill set it was not hard for him to decipher that there was something wrong in the Rogers’ household, from the very first time he saw them.

 

He remembers the stale scents that clogged their house on the day he went to see Joseph. He remembers smelling anxiety, fear, grief, apprehension, tension, anger and hatred in that air. Remembers the clogged feeling it left him in. He vividly remembers Joseph’s strained smile as he opened the door and Sarah running into the kitchen as he walked in. He remembers the lingering scent of her heart wrenching grief and tears. He remembers noticing the brooding omega in the corner of the living room, the plethora of emotions coming off him in waves. Vividly remembers the scent of hatred and anger that he threw off and remembers the way Joseph was sneering at him.

 

He had immediately understood that he had walked in in the midst of some family drama, a fight perhaps but Joseph’s happy scent had thrown him off again. He regrets ignoring the warming signs, especially Joseph’s icy demeanour towards his family.

 

Once he had been betrothed to marry Steve, there was no mistaking the fury of the omega. He had screamed at his father, made a public announcement of disobeying him and stormed off. He knew immediately that Steve was no ordinary omega, not one to stop, drop and roll at an alpha’s command and he had felt weirdly proud at that, attracted even.

 

He remembers running after Steve, apologising for his compromised position and asking Steve to save them both from this predicament. It was not typical alpha behaviour on his part too, but he had never been one of those alphas who believed that they always had to be the knight in shining armour to an omega in distressed. He had seen the same realisation in Steve’s eyes during their conversation.

 

After that great conversation, he'd been a little more than surprised at Steve’s behaviour in the coffee shop. He had a small inkling that something had happened in the time between their last talk and this meeting to change Steve's mind and he knew whatever happened had to be drastic, but he hadn’t expected Steve to shut him out. He had honestly believed that Steve would confide in him, but he hadn’t and that angered him, hurt the alpha ego in him. Despite not wanting to be a saviour to Steve he had at least wanted to be a friend. He had confided in Steve, had told him of his sappy all-American dream and he had expected Steve to do the same, at least reveal what had caused him to go back on what was essentially a promise he made to James.

 

Steve hadn’t and James lost his shit. He regrets it, but in his defence, he's never liked liars.

 

But today, after what was a really honest and trying conversation with Sarah, he sees where he went wrong. He misjudged Joseph, his conviction to make this marriage happen. Sarah had never specified what joseph had threatened Steve with or how he had manipulated him, but he could take a guess. He could see it in her eyes, in her chaotically neutral scent, could see it in the tears she fought not to shed.

 

She was the bait, the dangling fish that Joseph had tempted Steve with. How, he doesn’t know and why, he isn’t sure he wants to know, but if there is a chance, he could help both of them, since either is apparently not an option, he will do it.

 

And he's not an idiot. He can see the signs of abuse in both of them. He can see it in the way Steve flinches every time he gets too close, can see it in the widening of his eyes when James moves too suddenly, could see it in the tremble of his limbs when James got angry. He can see it in the resignation in Sarah’s shoulders, the careful way in which she approached him, the way she almost begged him to be kind to Steve.

 

He wants to help them, wants to save them from the Joseph, whom he's seeing to be the brute he is.

 

And it’s not the alpha in him, it’s the human.

 

But for that, he needs to do something else first.

 

 “Steve, listen. No offence, but I know our interactions never seem to be fully honest and we both have great communication issues. Going into this new relationship, friends or spouses, however you wanna call it, I think we must resolve that. Maybe, you know make a promise to be honest with each other. Maybe not about things that are personal, but at least things that affect the both of us. Because, once we commit ourselves to do this, we can’t storm out every time there is a misunderstanding or a communication gap. We cannot call it our wish or yell ‘I hate you’ at each other. We need to start talking things out like adults so that we have a chance for a real friendship here. Don’t you think so?” he stopped the car in front of his house and turned to look at Steve, who was still looking outside. For a second James thought he had not heard him and was going to repeat himself but before he could begin Steve turned his head and looked him in the eye, his face sporting the tiniest of smiles, shy and hesitant.

 

“Yeah, you're right. Though it doesn’t seem fair that you're taking part of the blame when you’ve always been honest with me. You even told me about your little American dream. I seem to be the one who always messes it up. I'm sorry.” He spoke softly, looking down in shame at the end of his words.

 

James moved closer to him, waited till he looked back up and then reached forward to lay his palm over Steve's.

 

“It’s not your fault, you hardly know me. You might not want to tell me everything and that’s okay. But, let’s not dwell on the past, okay? New marriage, new times.” He grinned at the end of the sentence and sighed internally when Steve returned the gesture. He took his hand back and removed the key from the ignition, mulling his next words over in his head and blurting it out before he could back out.

 

“Do you wanna kick start the whole honestly thing right now? Give it a try?” he hoped Steve would speak about the compromise, his feelings on this whole thing, maybe, by a very long shot, might even talk about how his father convinced him to do this. He had given Steve an opening to talk about anything he wanted to, his father, his childhood, the hints of abuse he's picked up on. But he also knows he gave Steve a loophole not to talk about personal issues and he knows Steve enough to know he's going to use the loophole.

 

 

“The house is beautiful, breath-taking even. And that is an honest statement.” Steve smiles at him and James can see the smallest hint of a wall being taken down between them. There are still innumerable more walls, some moats and possibly some crocodile infested waters between them, but it’s a start in the right direction and he’ll take what he can get.

 

“It was my parents’. Just got it back.” He can see the questions in Steve's gaze, how his lips almost tremble with the need to ask, but he doesn’t. And James is thankful for that.

 

The personal question loophole is after all, not just for Steve.

 

“Shall we?” he questions as he gestures towards the house and Steve nods. Bucky unlocks the door and Steve exhales softly.

 

“Yes, we shall.”

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO... MANY REVEALS!!!!!! 
> 
> What do you guys think of Sarah now? And are Steve and Bucky gonna keep their marriage all honest and good? 
> 
> ALSO IMPORTANT NOTE:  
> I don't mean to make everybody in the story a bad guy. Joseph is an asshole and Sarah is also not that great a character, however, I don't think everyone is gonna be like that. I'm trying to make them seem like real people and keep this as original as possible. Real people have agendas, some personal, some impersonal. They're not always good or bad and I wanted my characters to have that too. So, most probably all characters are gonna be a shade of grey... 
> 
> (If you thought of a fifty shades of grey joke after that last line, you and I can be best friends) 
> 
> Don't forget to leave some love, kudos and comments...


	5. Happy Birthday Buck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is Bucky's birthday but, who the hell is Bucky?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm very very late and I apologise for the delay. Sorry, sorry, sorry. 
> 
> Also you should thank Sebastian Stan for this update ;))))
> 
>  
> 
> @Sissy2D might have taken note of a suggestion of yours XD

**_10 th March 2020_ **

_12:01 am_

Steve blinks his eyes open, his hand blindly searching for the phone he's half sure he left on the side table, his head plastered on the pillow. He sits up in bed at the second peal of the doorbell and scrambles out of bed by the third. He's in a pair of flannel pyjamas and a plain white shirt but that doesn’t prevent him from opening the door and stumbling out into the hall- its not a hall, but a hallway and Steve is suddenly reminded of the fact that its not his little apartment that he lives in anymore. It’s James’ house, the two storey house with the small garden out front and a big but cosy hall and three bedrooms. It’s not his open kitchen- one bedroom shithole but a huge kitchen, separate dining room and living room family house. 

 

He sighs to himself but continues his way downstairs anyway, pausing at the sudden sounds in the house and multiple scents. He recognises James’ voice before he notices the chocolate scent, happy, elated and a tad bit worried. He then hears a woman, alpha from the scent: strong peppermint scent also doused in happiness. He then hears the shrill sound of another man, alpha too, scent that of fresh honey.

 

He considers turning back and going upstairs, but before he can turn back, a man with blonde hair and a purple hoodie walks into the hall and spots him. It’s the honey scented alpha he smelled earlier and Steve is frozen in place till the man screams and draws the attention of the others.

 

“There’s a stranger in here.”

 

James runs into the hall, his gaze falling on the alpha blonde before moving to the omega blonde. He sighs deeply and shakes his head in exasperation before signalling for the alpha to sit down and Steve to come down.

 

“Who’s this guy?” the blonde man points a finger at him accusatorily even as his curiosity is guided towards James. James comes over to stand beside Steve and gestures towards him with a flourish of his hands.

 

“Guys, this is Steve. Steve these are my friends, Natasha and Clint.”  He points to the woman first, red head, drop-dead gorgeous, who simply raises an eyebrow in greeting and then to Clint who looks way to excited to meet Steve.

 

“Nice to meet you.” Steve says and waves awkwardly at them, his social skills flying out the window at the sight of the intimidating wo- Natasha. He stops his waving and instead smiles at both of them, who to his relief return them.  

 

“Me too.” Clint says and walks over to shake Steve's hand. He gives Steve another smile and walks into the kitchen after snatching a box out of James’ hand. The brunette doesn’t even bat an eyelash, just turns to Steve with an apologetic smile and a nervous energy. 

 

“I’m so sorry we disturbed your sleep. I completely forgot these assholes were gonna crash here. Not that I knew in the first place, but really I should’ve guessed.” He murmurs nervously, his eyes not meeting Steve's at all. Steve goes to reply but gets interrupted by Clint, who comes barrelling in from the kitchen, two glasses of wine balanced precariously in his hands and a bottle of wine held in his armpit.

 

James shakes his head in frustration and pulls the bottle out from under his arm and sets it down on the table, eyeing the glasses in Clint’s hands with a suspicious glare. He shoots Natasha an undecipherable look and she elegantly plucks both glasses out of Clint’s hands and places them onto the table.

 

“You can go back to sleep if you want, I’ll try to keep them quiet. Or, if you want, you can stay down here and cut the cake with us, have some wine?” he continues after the small interruption, his nervous demeanour falling a little but still present in the nervous wrangling of his hands.

 

Steve finds it too adorable on a mature, alpha male.

 

“Cake and champagne? What are you guys celebrating?” he asks James, who immediately averts his eyes and clears his throat.

 

“James’ birthday. You didn’t know that?” Natasha questions from the couch, her legs perched on top of the coffee table and her fingers wrapped around the glass of wine. She raises one perfect eyebrow at him and Steve had never felt more intrigued and scared by the same woman.

 

He’s so flustered by the single gesture that he misses everything she said to him, including the fact that it’s James’ birthday.

 

“Jesus Christ, Natasha. Don’t do that.” James chides from beside him and she immediately drops the eyebrow, muttering to herself about having to be nice to everyone and shooting James a glare from the back of her glass.

 

“Yeah Buckaroo’s turning the big 25.” Clint chimes in from beside Natasha, his body dragged down the couch in a half lying, half sitting position as he tries to reach the glass of wine with the least possible movement possible.

 

Steve's ready to bet he will drop the wine on James’ beautiful black rug. He's also thankful the rug is black in colour.

 

Also, who the hell is Buckaroo? 

 

“It’s my birthday and I would really like it if you’d celebrate with us.” James provides helpfully and gives him a hopeful smile that Steve can’t help but return with a guilty smile.

 

He hadn’t known, otherwise he would’ve at least wished James, maybe stayed away while he enjoyed with friends, certainly not crash on a party his friends planned, wouldn’t even dare drag his ugly hide downstairs. He turns to James with an apologetic expression, it being his turn to do the nervous wrangling of hands.

 

“I'm sorry, I didn’t know-”

 

“Steve, don’t apologise. We literally know nothing about each other, I wasn’t expecting you to wish me.” James cuts off his apology with a teasing smile and Steve finds himself smiling back at him. He gives the birthday boy a sly smile and raises his own eyebrow teasingly, eyes twinkling as he asks, “Buckaroo?”

 

“Everybody we knew in our neighbourhood had a son or a brother or a grandchild named James, so I started telling everybody my name was Bucky, a nickname from my middle name. anyway, long story short it just stuck and is the worst decision of my life. Now all my friends call me that so there's no going back, as much as I want to.” The brunette explains with an over exaggerated eyeroll and over the top sigh that totally has Steve giggling. He slaps a hand over his mouth at the sound but James hears it anyway and Steve watches with horror as a twinkle comes alive in James’ eyes.

 

“So, Steve…you know James well enough to sleep at his place, but not well enough to know us or his birthday. Seems a little odd, isn’t it Clint?” Natasha suddenly appears beside them and Steve jumps at the sudden presence. He watches her with wide eyes as she stands beside him and talks, only pausing to look at Clint as she takes his name. At Clint’s affirmative nod, she continues, “So, Steve, who are you?”

 

Steve's never been in a police investigation, but he's sure it would feel a lot like this. He swallows loudly and opens his mouth to answer when James cuts in, his face unimpressed and arms crossed across his chest, eyes glaring daggers at the red head.

 

“Steve and I-” James gets interrupted by the doorbell and he leaves them both to go answer it. The moment he moves away, Natasha takes a step towards him and appraises him with a pursed lip.

 

“Bucky…” they both look towards the door as a silver haired man flings himself into James’ arms and watch as James holds him with a familiarity Steve's not had with anyone. The man holds James tightly and James doesn’t look like he wants to let go either. It is only when the silver blonde buries his head in James’ shoulder and James cradles the back of his head, that Steve looks away. It felt like he'd been spying on a private moment, somewhere private.  

 

“I didn’t know you were coming, Piet. I thought it was just these bitches.” He hears James’ voice, too high pitched in excitement and way too cheerful for midnight. Even James’ scent seems to be singing, overjoyed probably the right word for their jubilant nature and Steve finds himself smiling at the combined enthusiasm of the two.

 

“Hey!” he also hears Clint yell from the couch, his indignation at the term of endearment going unnoticed by both the people at the door, but not by Natasha who smiles at the alpha, a real genuine smile.

 

Steve totally doesn’t raise his eyebrow at that. No, sir, he didn’t. he would like to wake up tomorrow with both eyebrows intact, thank you very much.

 

“Nah. I wasn’t gonna miss your birthday, Bucky. That’s not gonna happen.” He hears the man’s voice and that’s when he finally starts to take notice of him.

 

The man- no teenager, he realise as he takes a closer look,  was almost as tall as James, definitely taller than Steve and a beta by his secondary gender. He had long silver hair that stood up at the top of his head and a pale complexion that made Steve's look tan in comparison. Piercing blue eyes and the scent of  fresh earth, unique and too strong for a beta.

 

“Missed you, Piet.” James’ whispers and  kisses the top of the boy’s silver hair, prompting a blush to bloom across the boy’s face and for him to melt into Bucky with his whole body.

 

“Missed you too, Bucky. So much.” He hears the blonde say and even Steve knows he means it with every fibre of his being.

 

It takes the two another couple of minutes to come into the living room, their entire time in the hallway spend in hushed conversation and barely concealed giggles. Steve turns to Natasha for a heads up on the teenager but she seems deep in thought, her eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed as she glares in the direction of the door, awaiting, it seems, the return of James.

 

“Who’s this?” the beta questions as soon as they make their way to the living room, his face open and curious as he walks towards Steve with an outstretched arm and easy smile.

 

“Steve, this is Pietro and Pietro this is Steve.” James introduces as Pietro shakes his hand and Steve is pleasantly surprised by Pietro's strong handshake despite his tall, lanky yet muscular physique. He smiles back at Pietro and tells him it’s a pleasure to meet him.

 

“And Steve is…” Clint prompts from where he's perched on the armrest of the couch, wine bottle in hand and lying like the worst model on the planet, his head lolled back against the back of the couch, but his eyes somehow still on Steve and James.

 

“Steve is my husband.” James states casually, his voice nor scent betraying any hesitation or even nervousness at admitting it to his friends. Steve is surprised, to say the least, at the developments, because he had really not expected James to tell his friends about this. He wonders if he's going to tell them how it came to be and if he’s gonna reveal Joseph’s dirty hand.

 

“What?” the three chorus together, their volume almost causing Steve to cup his ears and run away. The scents in the room suddenly change direction too, curiosity, wonder, almost happiness, hurt and jealousy. The last two make lines appear on his forehead, his eyes drifting towards the teenager in front of him.

 

“Did you finally find the one?” Clint asks and comes bounding from the couch, the wine sloshing in the bottle and spilling onto the floor, barely missing the rug and the coffee table. His face looks so excited and happy, Steve almost feels bad for telling him it’s not so, that he is not ‘the one’. James seemed to be thinking the same as he barely shakes  his head, but the happiness is shattered much before he can tell Clint the truth.

 

Pietro speaks, from beside them, his voice deceptively calm even as his scent soured and staled, a horrible stench of jealousy and anger seeping into the otherwise unique scent of earth and it makes everyone’s head turn towards the young beta. 

 

“You’re married? Bucky, you're married to him?”

 

 James looks taken back at the tone, the scent, at the fists clenched at Pietro’s side and his eyes widen. He takes a step towards the teenager, his scent peaking in an attempt to calm the beta but he doesn’t even turn towards the alpha, just glares at Steve and bares his teeth.

 

“Yes, Piet. Now as I was saying-”

 

“You're married to him? This weak, thin omega? He's not good enough for you, Bucky, look at him. Why are you with him, he doesn’t deserve you and he probably can’t give you any children.” The words would’ve wounded Steve, they do, but from the now unbearable stench of jealousy and grief, he knows it’s Pietro's irrationality speaking. He takes a deep breath, wills his scent to not sour, but it doesn’t stop the three alphas from glaring at Pietro and their scents to simmer in anger.  

 

“Pietro, what’re you saying! Calm down and sit.” James voice barely comes through with how his teeth are clenched but he still manages to keep both his voice and scent in check. Despite the growing indignation in his face, the redness of barely concealed anger, he still keeps his composure.

 

“No. you can’t be married to him. He's bony and short and-” Pietro’s ramble gets cut off as James suddenly takes a step towards him, his eyes narrowed in anger, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He speaks in a very low volume, his voice too calm and too soft to be anything but soothing, but Steve can see the sheer amount of willpower he takes for James to not growl. Can see it in his fuming nostrils, the vein ready to burst in his neck. 

 

“Pietro, upstairs now.” He gestures to the staircase, his voice tethering on the edge of rage, of anger. Pietro looks at him, his eyes pleading, desperation lacing his voice, his tone. He takes a step forward, places a hand on James’ arm and squeezes softly.

 

“Bucky-” the beta tries gain, but James interrupts.

 

“Now, Pietro. I think we should talk about this in private, right now!” an alpha growl falls from James’ lips, his entire demeanour changing to that of the dominant personality oft associated with his kind with his shoulders pulled back and head held high. He flicks his wrist towards the rooms upstairs and Pietro scrambles to obey. Even in his hasty turn, Steve catches a glimpse of his face, the fear and disbelief on them, even bleeding into the air around them. It’s not hard to know James has never taken this tone with Pietro, even with the others, because Steve can see the widening of Clint’s eyes and the subtle eyebrow raise from Natasha.  

 

“Guys are so dense. Blind to everything.” Natasha remarks as the two of them leave the room, before collapsing on the couch and taking a sip from the bottle of wine that Clint somehow manages to not drop in all the commotion.

 

“You saw this coming?” Clint asks incredulous, eyes still fixed on the spot the two men stood. Steve also looks towards Natasha for a answer as she shrugs and takes another swig.

 

“Very clearly.”

 

“Damn.” Clint whistles softly and settles next to Natasha on the couch, arms already extended for his beloved bottle. Natasha gives him a playful eyeroll and then turns her entire attention towards Steve who’s still standing frozen in his spot. He catches the gleam in Natasha’s eyes, the sudden peaking interest in her eyes and scent and fidgets slowly. He can’t believe James left him here with Natasha, scary yet intriguing Natasha.

 

“So Steve” she begins, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees,  “how do you and Bucky know each other and how is he suddenly married to you?”

 

***

“Pietro…” Bucky growls as soon as he closes his bedroom door behind them. Pietro doesn’t turn to look at him, just paces the length of his room, hands in his hair and fingers pulling at the strands. 

 

“You got married? Without telling me? When, why?” He mutters under his breath and spins around suddenly, his eyes filled with tears and overflowing. Tears track down his pale cheeks and his hands still pull at his silver locks, forceful enough to cause more tears to fall from his eyes. His chest falls up and down at a worrying pace and he hardly breathes between his heart wrenching sobs.

 

Bucky dashes forward, his arms coming around Pietro in a hug, as he holds him close and whispers soothingly in his ear, his voice a shadow of the rough growl he'd been using a moment ago.

 

“Pietro, calm down. You’ll hurt yourself. Please.” He rubs the blonde’s back in wide sweeping strokes and continues his whispering in the same, slow manner. His heart hurts when he thinks of how familiar this is, how often he has had to calm Pietro down before he could bring a panic attack upon himself. He hates to think of those days, those nights and how easily the words come to him. Now’s not the time, no time is ever the time for that. 

 

It takes some time but Pietro calms down eventually, his sobs quieting down to sniffs and the occasional tear. Bucky holds him through it all, before finally releasing him enough to see his face and wipe away the tear tracks from his cheeks. He doesn’t step back from the blonde, holds him at an arm’s length and gives him the time to return to the conversation. 

 

“Why did you get married?” Pietro asks finally, sad blue eyes flickering up to meet Bucky's worried grey ones. Pietro’s scent, the smell of fresh earth after the first rain, is rancid with grief and jealousy and it in turn makes Bucky's scent sour.

 

He has never been able to stomach Pietro’s grief and this time is no different. 

 

“You remember the guy who saved my life last year, Joseph?” At Pietro’s nod, he continued, “Steve is his son. In return for saving my life, Joseph asked me to marry Steve. And I couldn’t say no, an alpha promise and all. So then, we got married yesterday.”

 

Pietro looked like he had questions, so Bucky silenced him with a raised hand and spilled the entire story to him, starting with his visit to the Rogers’ household and ending with Sarah’s words.  Pietro listened with rapt attention, his eyes eventually losing the sadness and instead being replaced with hope as his scent slowly but steadily grew fresh, fragrant.

 

“So you do not love him?” he asked softly, his eyes trained on Bucky's, both their heart beating rapidly, but for different reasons.

 

“No, Piet, I don’t.”

 

“Then do you…” Bucky placed a hand on his mouth and silenced him immediately. He watched as Pietro's eyes grew wide in realisation and then jumped into despair. The air around them staled again and Bucky could feel his own eyes watering at the teenager’s heartbroken expression.  

 

“No, please don’t. Don’t ask me that, please don’t make me say that.” He pleaded and let his hand fall to the side, his grief stricken grey eyes finding their reflection in the blonde’s similar blue eyes.

 

“Why not? Why do you not love me? Is there something wrong with me?” Pietro asks in a broken voice, similar expression trained on Bucky's face.

 

“No!” he shouted, angry that Pietro would ever think of himself in such a way. He shook his head furiously and took a step towards the blonde, his flesh hand coming up to cup the blonde’s pale face as his voice became soft and soothing again. “There’s nothing wrong with you, don’t you dare say that. You're one of the best people I know, one of the strongest and bravest. You're kind, loyal and devoted to a fault and one of the cutest people on the planet. But we’re family, Piet. We’re brothers, you and I, someone I've looked after and raised. I can’t see you as anything less than that, Piet, please don’t ask me to.”

 

“We’re not brothers, Bucky. We never were. You were my best friend and I always hoped you’d be more. Please, Buck. One chance. Just once.” The blonde begged, his entire body leaning into Bucky's hand. His eyes shone with unshed tears and every fibre in Bucky's body screamed at him to stop hurting Pietro, to give him whatever he wanted and to put an end to his suffering.

 

But he couldn’t. He hadn’t been lying about Pietro being like a brother to him, in fact he had always considered him to be his own brother, despite not being biologically related. He hadn’t known Pietro's feelings, hadn’t known he was sowing the wrong feelings in the teenager.

 

“Pietro, please don’t. Please.”

 

“You're making this harder than it already is. You're pushing me away. Why? Why would you do that to me? Why me?” Pietro burst out in tears at Bucky's words, sobbed out his own in return. Bucky's heart splintered in his chest at the sight of the heartbroken beta, at the tears he'd promised himself he'd never be the cause of, at the sight of grief that he had vowed to never let return.

 

He pulls Pietro towards himself, lets the boy cry and sob into his chest as he holds on to him as tightly as possible. He cradles Pietro's silver hair in his metal arm and rubs his flesh hand up and down the blonde’s back. Pietro's grip on his back is too tight, borderline painful, but he doesn’t push him away, doesn’t ask him to go easy. He lets Pietro hold him and lets himself hold the breaking beta, as he whispers his apologies into Pietro's hair, lets Pietro's tears soak him and  his tears soak the beta.

 

“Pietro, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I never noticed this, I'm sorry I let this grow so much, I'm sorry I never made my intentions clear. I'm sorry you're hurting, Piet, I never meant to hurt you. You're a young boy, so full of life and promise, you deserve someone better. You deserve someone with both arms and a fully functioning head. I'm not the one for you, but there is someone out there, I promise. You’ve to let this go, Pietro, for me and for you.”

 

“I can’t, Bucky. I love you so much, for so long. I…” Pietro doesn’t complete his sentence, just buries his head in Bucky's chest and sobs aloud. Bucky tightens his hold fractionally, his thoughts flying back to every time Pietro had said the same words and he had misinterpreted them. It’s hard to believe he never understood them, never saw the adoration in Pietro's eyes.

 

He hates himself for that, for being too wrapped up in himself and hurting one of the few people he genuinely loves.

 

“I love you too, speedster, but not in the way you want me to. I'm sorry.” He tries again.

 

Pietro lifts his head from Bucky's chest, looks him in the eye and wipes away a tear that falls from Bucky's eye. He shakes his head and says “It’s not your fault, why you apologising? I should, I'm sorry.”

 

“Shhh. You did nothing wrong, Piet. You're allowed to feel the way you do, never apologise for your feelings, okay? They’re a part of you and you shouldn’t apologise for something like that.” Bucky doesn’t move his hand from Pietro's back, but lets the right one comb through his silver hair and push them back. He gives the teenager a small smile and sighs in relief when Pietro returns it.

 

“See, you're the one making it so hard to not be in love with you. You're perfect, Buck. How can someone not fall in love?” Pietro's words hardly reach him, even in the small distance between them. He knows he should probably ignore those words, let the rhetoric question remain rhetoric, but the guilt at hurting Pietro forces his mouth open and words spill out anyway.

 

“I’m not perfect, Pietro. I've just as many flaws as anyone. Maybe more. You just can’t see them now.”

 

“Oh yeah? Like what?” The blonde questions quietly, his eyebrows pinching in thought and eyes clouding again in grief. In his longing to bring the smile back, Bucky blurts out the first thought that comes to him.

 

“I pick my nose in public.”

 

“Eww. I think I might already be over you. That’s disgusting.” Pietro makes a face at that and pulls back a little from Bucky even though his hands remain buried in the back of Bucky's t-shirt. Bucky chuckles at the look on his face and takes a small step forward, his face sporting the most mischievous smile it had sported since returning home.

 

“Huh? Then maybe I should tell you about the time I farted on an aeroplane.” He continues, tongue in cheek, as Pietro's face wrinkles in disgust and possible sympathy for the poor people on that flight.

 

“Now, I'm sure I'm over you.” The blonde replies immediately and they both laugh at that. The laughing stops after a while as they both stand facing each other and wait for the other to say something. It’s Pietro who beaks the silence, his eyes searching Bucky's as he takes a step forward.

 

“Buck…”

 

“Hmm?” the brunette hums, his hand rubbing small circles on Pietro's shoulder, as the beta comes to stand a little under an arm’s distance from him. 

 

“I'm not over you and I think I might not be for a while. Would you hate me for that?” Pietro asks quietly, his eyes searching Bucky's for any sign of hate or malice. The air around them also seems to be doing the same as Pietro's apprehensive scent circles Bucky's in a prodding manner, heavy in the air.

 

“I could never hate you, Pietro. Never in a billion years. You're feelings are fragile, Piet, do not force them or rush them. They’ll fade over time, or maybe you’ll be able to write over them, replace the feelings you have for me with feelings for someone else. It may take time, it may happen fast, but it’ll happen at its own pace. Don’t push it and hurt yourself okay? I don’t wanna see you hurt, Piet. Ever. And I’ll never hate you for something like this. Don’t worry about that.” Bucky replies in the same soft voice Pietro had used, but with a small smile he had always noticed he only reserved for the blonde.

 

“Thank you, Buck. Not only for today, but for everything you ever did for me, for Wanda, for all of us really. I don’t know if I could ever thank you enough for all of that.” Pietro falls into Bucky's arms again, and Bucky's relieved to notice the lack of tears. He hugs back just as strongly, cupping the back of Pietro's head and wrapping an arm around his back.

 

“You remember when you told me you were going to college on a sports scholarship?” when the young blonde nods, Bucky continues, “At that moment you already thanked me for everything I did. There is no better gift you could’ve given me, Pietro, nothing. I'm so proud of you, so goddamn proud.”

 

Pietro pulls back from the hug and watches Bucky with a strong gaze. Bucky stares back in confusion as the scent of damp earth grows stronger around him. He watches the blonde watch him for a few seconds before Pietro surges in and kisses him, arms around his neck and body leaning on his. It takes him a few moments to get his bearings and make sense of what happened, before he pulls Pietro backwards with a tight grip on the back of his shirt and takes a step back to put some more distance between them.

 

“Pietro…” he implores, his broken tone and expression voicing the betrayal he feels at the action. He had thought they'd talked it out, he had assumed Pietro wouldn’t… he hates not being right, but being wrong about Pietro hurts more than it ever has.

 

“I'm sorry, Buck, so sorry but I had to do that once, I needed that closure. I'm sorry again, Buck, really sorry. But I'm gonna make you proud, I'm gonna graduate with great scores and I'm gonna work for the dreams you taught me to have. I'm gonna make you really proud of me, I promise.” Pietro gives him a kicked puppy look and lowers his head in shame, his entire demeanour like that of a man awaiting punishment. Bucky internally screams at the posture, at the fact that Pietro would even think Bucky would-could do something like that.

 

The posture brings to mind a series of bad memories and Bucky pushes them down too, the images and the too real nightmares, and concentrates on the broken teenager before him, on his little brother.

 

“I already am, Pietro. You don’t need to do anything for me. Do it for you, only for you.” He takes a step forward, cringes at his own hesitation and then strides forward more confidently. He takes Pietro's hand in his own and smiles at him, forcing his scent to not give away his fear of misleading Pietro with the gesture.

 

“Mmm. See, so perfect.” Pietro murmurs and Bucky almost drops his hand before he sees the wicked grin on Pietro's face, focuses on the teasing lilt to his words. He cracks a smile at the mischievous idiot and pulls him towards the door.

 

He stops at the door and turns to look at Pietro again, to get a read on the blondes face. He sees red-rimmed eyes and a red nose. He sees tear tracks on his cheeks and swollen eyelids. He sees love and understanding. He sees the little boy he brought up and a handsome man who loves him for it. He sees the real Pietro and it makes him more proud than he has ever been.

 

“Do you wanna go downstairs now? Cut the cake you guys brought me?”

 

“Yeah. Though I must warn you, they’re gonna paint your face with it.” Pietro replies immediately with the same face with which he told Bucky that he was going to prank Natasha. It’s a face Bucky is familiar with, because it’s a face that has never lied, and because it’s the face of his little brother.

 

“Wouldn’t be a birthday if they didn’t.”  

***

“Steve…” the blonde startles and jumps a little, his head whipping up from his steady gaze on the floor. He quickly blinked away the glassy look in his eyes and smiled at the youngster who stood in front of him.

 

“Oh, hey Pietro, you feeling okay?” he doesn’t know why he asked that, doesn’t even know if it is the right thing to ask, but the question leaves his mouth before he can think further about it and he mentally braces himself for angry words to follow. 

 

“Yeah.” Pietro takes a deep breath, his shoulders hunching in on him, as he sighs and looks Steve in the eye, barely concealed guilt and regret colouring them sad and starts speaking, too soft to be heard and too fast to comprehend. “I'm sorry for what I said earlier, Steve. I was so rude and disrespectful and you don’t deserve any of that. I was so blindsided by my anger and it is unfair that I took it out on you. I sincerely apologise for any hurt I might have caused you. I know a mere sorry won’t suffice but if there is anything I can do, please let me know. I really wish there was a way I could go back and change what I said, I really do.” His eyes get a little teary at the end of his speech and Steve feels really sorry for the teenager, for the grief he sees in those eyes, for the sorrow and regret. He smiles at him and takes a hesitant step forward, his arm coming to rest on Pietro's shoulder. He squeezes lightly and gives Pietro a small, sad smile.

 

“You’re forgiven, Pietro. It’s okay. You apologised and that is a great thing to do. You're a good guy, you just need to learn how to control that temper. Don’t worry I totally understand, I'm also team zero chill.” He chuckles softly at the end of his sentence and notes with relief that Pietro does the same.

 

The silver blonde doesn’t move away from his hand either but takes hold of his wrist with his own. He holds on tightly as he gives Steve a kicked look and lowers his eyes to the ground as he talks.

 

“Yeah. But those were some pretty shitty things I said and I want you to know I didn’t mean any of it. You're a really good looking guy, Steve, don’t let some words said in jealousy make you think otherwise.” Steve knows he probably didn’t mean it, but that didn’t mean that he was wrong or that the words were untrue. They were true and Steve knew it. Had heard it thrown at him from bullies at the playground, from his own father and from everyone in between. He didn’t want Pietro's pity, his dishonest words or his failing attempt of making it up to Steve.

 

He steels his face and his expression, praying his demeanour doesn’t give away how deep the words had cut him.

 

“Sure. I'm good looking! I believe you.” He tries to be nonchalant about it, brush it off as sarcasm but his words sound too bitter even to his own ears. He closes his eyes tightly as Pietro comes to stand closer to him and tries to pull away from the teenager’s very strong grip on his hand.

 

“Dude! You're kidding right? You seriously don’t know how good looking you are? Are you blind? With those baby blue eyes, pale skin and plump lips, you're like super pretty man. Seriously.”

 

Steve laughs then, amusement not sarcasm littering the cacophony, at Pietro’s blunt words and wonderous tone. He opens his eyes then to look at a still worried looking Pietro and gives him a genuine smile, small but coming from his heart.

 

“ Okay, okay. I believe you but you need to stop now or I am going to assume you're flirting with me.”

 

Pietro looks in the direction of the living room, from where Bucky's laughter is filtering in, and shakes his head softly, the action hardly inducing any real movement in his body, and drops Steve's hand from his shoulder. He takes a step back from the blonde and keeps his eyes trained on the floor beneath their feet.

 

“No, definitely not flirting with you.” And very softly, in a whisper meant only for himself to hear, he adds “I can’t.”

 

And Steve's heart breaks for the barely legal teen. He can guess what happened upstairs from Pietro’s heartbroken expression, can see the rejection in his blue eyes. Rejection is always hard, but at 19, it feels like the end of the world. Fully intend on comforting Pietro, Steve takes a step forward, drops his voice low so his soft words can only reach Pietro. 

 

“I'm sorry, Pietro.”

Pietro snaps his head up at Steve, self-loathing and pity swirling in them and the air around them, as his scent subsides just a little, lets Steve's soothing vanilla scent lull him a little. It’s after quite a while that he smiles, soft, barely there.

 

“It’s okay, Steve. I'm okay. There's nothing either of us can do about it.” He speaks too softly, resignation at an unjust fate dripping from his voice and Steve is reminded all over again that Pietro is young, so young.

 

Before he can reply Natasha’s voice calls out to both of them and they leave the kitchen, not without a non-verbal conversation first.

 

_I'm sorry._

_I'm sorry too._

 

***

**_10 th March 2020 _ **

Steve's grumbling away to himself and nursing a cup of hot, divine coffee  when Bucky enters the kitchen, already showered and dressed and sporting a small smile. The moment his eyes fall to a half asleep Steve sprawled on the dining table he chuckles to himself and moves towards the counter to grab a glass of water.

 

“Good morning, Steve? Did you sleep well after those assholes finally left?” he asks cheerfully, his heart soaring after an amazing night with his friends. Steve lifts his nose from where it was almost buried inside the mug and squints his eyes at Bucky, suspicion lacing his every feature, even his scent seeming to be half awake and barely there.

 

“Mmm. You're awfully chipper for someone who hasn’t had a cup of coffee yet.” Bucky laughs at his tone and gulps a glass of water, angling his body towards Steve's and answering in a light tone, his eyes still twinkling with mirth at Steve's half-dead form.

 

It was freaking hilarious. The only other person he had seen this disoriented in the morning was Clint and that was saying something.

 

“That’s cause I don’t drink coffee. Never caught the habit, I guess.” He shrugs and Steve's eyes bulge out of his head, the blonde almost dropping his beloved mug in the process of exclamation.

 

Bucky has to really fight back a laugh at this point. Steve might actually be worse than Clint and that was saying a lot of things. 

 

“Dude! You're missing out on the best part of life, the most delicious thing out there, the very elixir of life. Have you really lived if you haven’t had coffee?”

 

It was officially confirmed that Steve was in fact worse than Clint.

 

“Well aren’t you poetic in the morning! Good to know.” Bucky teases him with a smile and Steve sticks his tongue out in retaliation, going back to sipping out of his elixir holding mug, but still looking at Bucky with suspicious eyes.

 

Despite Steve's grumpy attitude, horrible poetry and his own teasing, Bucky finds himself happy for the two of them. This banter was a far cry from where they both stood less than 24 hours ago, tense and anxious, wanting to run away from themselves and everyone else. Between Steve's fear and Bucky's apprehension, he had thought this was going to be painful to say the least. But, it hadn’t been. Steve had gelled well with his friends, even with Bucky and after last night’s impromptu ice-breaking session, their interactions didn’t seem so forced anymore and Bucky was glad about it. He wished they could continue like this, be friends even when destiny had thrust them in a direction where they had started out by mutual hate and mistrust.

 

He wanted this morning to last a little longer, a lot longer.

 

“Uhm, Steve… I apologise for Pietro's outburst yesterday. He was way out of line and he said some very hurtful things that he had shouldn’t even have crossed his mind in the first place and I'm so sorry for that. I hope you can forgive him, he's just-” he breaks off, unaware as to how to complete his sentence.

 

“Very in love with you?” Steve raises his head and asks with a small smile on his face, no mirth in it, just a little empathy.

 

“Hero worship and misplaced emotions are more like it.”

 

“It’s okay, James. He already apologised to me yesterday and called me pretty. He was instantly forgiven.” Steve gives him a stronger smile this time and Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. He really didn’t want beef between Steve and any of his friends, especially Pietro.

 

He was also proud of Pietro for apologising to Steve, he was such a good kid. God Bucky could cry tears of joy and pride and love (platonic).

 

“Well he's not wrong.” Bucky says after a beat and revels in the way Steve’s cheeks turn the lightest shade of pink.

 

As he smiles to himself, Steve turns to look at him, competition swirling in his eyes and the mixed scents around them as he looks Bucky in the eye and grins wide.

 

“Yeah, I'm also looking at proof that the kid’s got a working set of eyes.”

 

Bucky can feels his cheeks turning hot and he immediately turns around to pour himself another glass of water. It had been too long since he had complimented somebody like that, had been complimented himself and he was hit with the sudden realisation that he didn’t know what to do. He was out of practice and it made something deep inside him hurt, a dull thud, some long buried memories.

 

“So, Nat liked you.” He changed the subject abruptly and turned back around to face Steve, hiding his face behind his glass as he pretended to take a sip.

 

“What? Did she say that?” Steve was suddenly more awake than he had been and he almost spat his coffee in Bucky's face in his excitement.

 

Bucky laughed at his enthusiasm, totally understanding Steve's awestruck amazement at the fact that Natasha had liked him. Bucky had almost fainted when she had first waved at him.

 

“Steve, do you need help picking up your jaw from the floor?” he asks, his tongue in cheek as he finally allows himself to move away from his glass-shield.

 

“No, you jerk. Tell me if she said so.” Steve punches him in the right arm lightly and Bucky totally doesn’t make a show of pouting and rubbing his arm. Nope he doesn’t.

 

“No, she didn’t. but she didn’t stab you, so that means she likes you.” It’s not a joke. Brock Rumlow, professional asshole, can confirm to that.

 

“Does she tell someone she likes them?” Steve asks with a childlike enthusiasm and Bucky suddenly realises that even though he has been through so much, Steve's still a goddamn kid, barely 20, just few months elder to Pietro himself. He swallows his apologies and grief down and takes another sip of water, just to give himself something to do so he's not standing there gaping at Steve.

 

“She liked Clint the first time she saw him. He was fighting a bunch of assholes who were hurting a dog. After she kicked all their butts, she turned to Clint, told him she liked him and asked him to be her friend. They’ve been friends ever since.” He shrugs and turns away to wash his glass in the sink, his thoughts drifting back again and again to Steve and his lost childhood. He can’t help but berate himself for not seeing it sooner, for never even asking.

 

Steve's too young and Bucky feels himself curling his palms with a wish to take his fist to Joseph’s face.

 

  _How could he do this to his own son?_

 

“What about you? How did you meet her?” Steve's voice cuts into his thoughts and he immediately places the glass down before he breaks it. He’s already reaching to put it back in the cupboard when the question catches up with him.

 

Memories of dark night, thin blankets and crying faces come to his mind. Nightmares of scary men, long canes and crooked teeth flash behind his eyelids. Blurry images of red hair, an extended hand and a Russian accent flash in front of his eyes.

 

He takes a deep steadying breath, leans his whole weight on the granite counter top and blinks his eyes rapidly to throw off the images and memories. He takes another breath, rolls his shoulder backwards and fakes a glance at the clock above the fridge.  

 

“Uh, it’s a long story and I'm running a little late. I’ll see in the evening, okay?”

He rushes out of the kitchen and into his room as fast as he can. He can feel Steve's questioning gaze on his back and concerned eyes over him. He doesn’t need to read minds to know that Steve knows this was him running away.

***

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it was unclear, Pietro is 19 in this fic, barely a year younger to Steve.
> 
> Now on to important things.  
> Even though this is my most popular fic, it is not the one I consider to be my best work. There's another fic, one I'd poured my heart and soul into and I was so proud of the way it turned out. But, unfortunately, it is my least popular work. In fact nobody seems to have read it. It would mean the world to me if you guys would please check it out, read it maybe? Please. 
> 
> In case anybody wants to read it, I'm posting the link below.  
> [Under The Stars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17056052)
> 
> Thank you for reading.   
> Until next time  
> Apieceofurmind


	6. A New Beginning, An Old Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are becoming closer.

**_10 th March 2020 _ **

He walks into the store with a single thought on his mind, a fucking cigarette and nothing more. He had tried at least three shops before this one and they'd either stopped selling ‘cancer sticks’ or they were out of stock. His anger was at the precipice of boiling over and he could hardly think beyond his absolute need for a smoke.

 

He pushes open the door and growls at the bells that jingles at his arrival. He glares at the beta manning the counter and strides towards the aisles with all the confidence of an alpha. He moves swiftly to a rack which advertises cigarettes, but freezes immediately.

 

He sniffs once to confirm his initial assessment and then slowly smiles to himself. He'd know that scent anywhere, the scent of his son, the scent of his pride.

 

Dark chocolate.

 

He follows the scent to its origin and finds James at the dairy section, reading the label of a yogurt cup and furrowing his brows thoughtfully. He narrowed his eyes at the basket in James’ hand and scowled at the household items thrown into it. Alpha men did not do the household shopping, buy groceries and shampoos, omegas and women did. In his entire life he had never once set foot in a grocery store or stood in lines to pay for household items. It had always been done by the omegas in his life: first by his mom and then by Sarah.

 

Steve was not keeping his end of the bargain and Joseph grit his teeth at the audacity of the omega to send James for such a housewife task.

 

 “James..” He advanced towards the young alpha and smiled when the brunette turned to look at him. He felt his scent calm down from its prior anger and almost sing in the presence of James.

 

“Sir.” James stood where he was a nodded slightly, his scent suddenly very neutral and not giving any indication of any emotions that the brunette was feeling. Joseph took a step forward, kept his eyes and body language open as he opened his arms for a hug.

 

“Sir? Call me dad son, we’re family now.” He can see James eyes narrow at his words and the small hint of a smile tease his lips. He eyes Joseph’s open hands but doesn’t offer a hug, just stands there and looks anywhere but at Joseph.

 

“Sir,” there is a novel bitterness in James’ voice and Joseph flinches at the cold, hard glare he’s faced with., “what can I do for you?”

 

Joseph involuntarily takes a step back at the snarl that falls from James’ lips and he narrows his eyes at the young alpha. James had never disrespected him, had never given him the cold shoulder or even looked at him with cold eyes. The look in James’ eyes were scary at the moment, hardly any warmth and a ton of barely concealed anger shone in those greys.

 

He knows he fucked up with his proposal, knows James has every right to be angry at him for forcing him into a union he had no interest in and also knows that anybody who’s forced to marry Steve of all people would treat him coldly. But, this, this does not feel like the hostility that comes from that, this hostility is passive in nature, it belongs to somebody else and it is just getting projected through James.

 

The moment that clarity crosses his mind, so does the answer to the puzzle, to James’ anger, to his son’s hostility.

 

“I see. He's poisoned your mind against me, huh?” he grits out, his scent flaring up and out towards James, stinking with anger and pain, as he glares at his son with fury that is in the least not directed towards him.

 

James doesn’t flinch at the tone, doesn’t even step back at the stench of pine trees and dew and just stands his ground. He tilts his head to the side, voice calm and deceptively innocent, as his eyes narrow in Joseph’s direction.

 

“I don’t know what you're talking about.”

 

“Like hell you don’t! I'm talking about that bastard you married yesterday and the lies he told you.” He realises too late that he is shouting and he immediately snaps his mouth shut. Every fibre in his being urges him to apologise to his beloved son, to take back everything he just said and to beg James’ to put this behind them. But one look at James’ face and his barely concealed scowl is enough for all guilt and regret to fly out the window and for Joseph’s anger to soar again. 

 

“What lies do you think he told me?” James growls at him and Joseph sub consciously does it back. He takes a step forward, his palms curling into fists at his side and the distance between the two alphas diminishing to mere few feet. He hopes the gesture intimidates James but the young alpha also stands his ground, barely blinking and face devoid of any fear. Joseph feels a surge of pride at his fearless son for standing his ground but he doesn’t let it cloud the anger he feels.

 

“How am I supposed to know the lies that spineless retard goes about saying?” he bellows, the very thought of Steve making angry fumes erupt from his nostrils and ears and his scent to go berserk.

 

The question snaps something in James also, whose neutral scent suddenly spars in anger, his eyes blaze and he grits his teeth menacingly.

 

“How can you talk about your own son like that.” He snarls and Joseph involuntarily takes a step back in fear. He has never seen James so angry, didn’t know it was possible for the young man, but he knows he can’t back down now. Alphas don’t step down from a fight, don’t let fear mar their scent even in the worst of scenarios. He steps forward and matches James’ fury with his own.

 

“No son of mine is a weak, useless omega. I could never raise such a wuss.”

 

“You can’t accept your own son, but you expect me to accept you as my father?” James challenges in return, even the corners of his eyes turning red with immense anger. Joseph reels back like he was hit, the realisation that James does not want to be known as his son, hitting him harder than he ever imagined possible. He shakes the growing feelings of heartbreak down, alphas don’t feel such pathetic emotions, and holds his head high and voice unwavering as he replies.

 

“You're no pathetic, ‘take-it-up-your-ass’ omega, are you! Of course I want to be called your father.” He sees the fury in James’ eyes and feels the wrath of his words even before he utters them. He’s never in a million years imagined the cold ferocity in those grey eyes as James advances on him, gets right up in his personal and breathes his next words right down at him, voice barely above a ferocious whisper. 

 

“Steve is no weak, pathetic omega. He's so much more. He's…” and he stops, breathes heavily as his eyes flash in confusion. Joseph smirks as he realises what it is. James doesn’t know anything about Steve, doesn’t know who Steve is or what he does. He's not known Steve long enough to know shit about him.

 

“He’s what, James? A useless omega you married, that you couldn’t even spend a second with? Isn’t that why you're an a supermarket at ass’ o clock in the morning?” he chuckles coldly and watches coolly as James takes another deep breath, his nostrils flaring in anger and eyes flashing red.

 

“No,” he says with conviction. He pauses to take a deep breath, wills his scent and his temper to calm down and not create a scene in a public place. He drops his voice and raises his eyes to look right at Joseph, lets his tone convey the belief he has in his words.

 

“No. He’s strong because even after undergoing all this abuse at your hands, he never broke. He’s kind because even after the way he has been mistreated by you, he still smiles. He’s forgiving, because despite the fact that you gave him away to an absolute stranger, he still hasn’t punched you in the face. He's respectful, despite never having any respect in the house he was born in. He’s smart. Despite being the genetic progeny of the stupidest man I've ever met.”

 

“Stupid? How dare-” Joseph splutters in shock and doesn’t recover in time to stop James’ interruption.

 

“You're stupid, if you don’t know how great a son you have.” The young alpha finishes and walks away from Joseph, leaving his basket in the aisle and the stench of fury and irritation.

 

Joseph watches him go with a heavy heart and sinks on to the floor in despair. He's never felt so hopeless, so pathetic, so broken. He holds his head in his hand and fights the urge to cry or scream. He just lost his son, lost him to stupid Steve and his manipulative ways. He should’ve never asked James to marry that sick son of a bitch, never given Steve a chance to steal his son away.

 

As the despair and grief pass, anger and vengeance take its place. Steve screwed him over, got his son to hate him and leave him. If Steve thinks Joseph is going to sit still and let it happen, he's mistaken. The omega forgot about Joseph’s greatest weapon, the power he still wields over Steve. He's going to make Steve regret this, make him regret ever turning James against him.

***

 

 They sit in companionable silence for a while, both their gazes on the kids playing in front of them, but mind on the man sitting next to them. Steve had been surprised, to say the least, when James had come barging in from outside, his face an angry shade of red and his scent in mind-numbing fury, and asked Steve if he would like to go to the park. As much as he hates to admit it, Steve had been terrified to say no and even though James had been nothing but cordial and dare he say sweet while asking, his scent had been enough to make Steve think twice about saying yes. But the alpha had been a thorough sweetheart, taking Steve to the park, buying him an ice cream and then proceeding to ask him if they could sit on a bench.

 

Steve had not said no to anything. Yet. Even if they’d been sitting on the bench eating ice cream, in silence, for over fifteen minutes.

 

Though, he is confused and apprehensive. James had ran out of the house, preferring fleeing to answering Steve's simple question, and it had put Steve in a dilemma of sorts. What was so bad about his meeting with Natasha? What had happened? Who was Natasha? What was James hiding?

 

He kept all his questions to himself and watched a dog chase after a little girl of five, her pigtails flying after her as she shrieked in uncontrolled mirth.

 

“I'm sorry for running out on you today. It was really immature of me. I'm sorry.” James’ voice breaks him out of his reverie, his head snapping sideways to look at the brunette. James doesn’t turn to look at him, but he knows James knows he's looking at him, can see it in the way his shoulders sag minutely.

 

“No,” he begins to contradict James’ statement, but stops before he can say anymore. He doesn’t want unnecessary lies between them anymore, doesn’t want them to keep tip toeing around the other. James is a grown man, he can handle a little criticism. He clears his throat and tries again,  “Yeah, it was. You could’ve just told me you didn’t want to talk about it and I wouldn’t have pushed. Our deal was about being honest with each other if the matter concerned the other and your relationship with Natasha is none of my concern, James. I don’t expect you to tell me anything about that.”

He finishes with an air of finality. James turns to look at him, a sparkle in his eye, something indecipherable in them. He smiles at Steve, a slow smile that soon takes over the entirety of his face and Steve finds himself unable to look away.

 

“You're…you're something else, you know that?” the brunette whispers breathlessly, his voice as soft as the smile on his face. Steve feels himself going hot under the collar and he clears his throat again.

 

“Oh yeah. You're lucky to have me, my mom says I'm a catch.” He deadpans and sighs in relief when James breaks his intense gaze and laughs at his comment. He cracks a small smile at the brunette and they both go back to watching the little kids in the park, Steve's eyes searching for the little girl and her energetic dog.

 

“You didn’t have to agree to come with me just because you were scared. You're allowed to say no.” James begins after a while, his tone apologetic and his eyes refusing to meet Steve's. The omega keeps his eyes fixed on the alpha, dares him to meet his gaze, but upon failing sighs deeply and answers petulantly.

 

“I wasn’t scared.”

 

“Your scent can’t lie and honestly neither can you. Don’t try, Steve.” The brunette answers and Steve hates the smile he can hear in his voice. He crosses his arms across his chest and turns to look at the running path in front of him.

 

“It’s just that…you looked like…” he flailed his arms around to convey James’ scary demeanour from when he entered the house and continued speaking through it , “ and I didn’t know what it was about and I didn’t wanna accidentally contribute to it, so I agreed to come with you. Didn’t mean to convey you're scary or anything.” He finished quietly and hardly swallowed back the sorry that was threatening to escape. He was honestly tired of the two of them apologising to the other continuously, about every little thing. They were roommates for heaven’s sake, miscommunications, fights, misunderstandings were bound to happen. They couldn’t keep apologising to each other forever.

 

“Sorry, just ran into an asshole and he insulted someone I know. I couldn’t punch him in the face and it really irked me, I guess.” The alpha shrugged and Steve turned to stare at him incredulously, his jaw hanging open

 

“You're an alpha, why couldn’t you punch him in the face, its not like the law is gonna come after you for breaking hierarchical norms. Was the guy an alpha?” he knew he sounded bitter. And he was. He was angry for every time he wanted to punch an alpha or a beta and the society would remind him who was superior. He was bitter about every alpha who got away with harassment, abuses and even assaults just because they were an alpha. He is bitter about every time he was harassed for being an omega who didn’t know his place. He is bitter for every time someone would laugh at him for trying to take on an alpha.

 

He at least had the entire world and system against him, what reason  did James have to not fight. He was an alpha, strong, healthy alpha. Even if the other guy was an alpha, it’s not like he could get into more trouble for hitting him. They would have had an alpha-alpha fight, one of them would get their ass handed to them and the law enforcement would come, warn them to not do it, and go their way. Nobody would’ve told James he was an idiot for taking on an alpha. Nobody would’ve reminded James of his thin body or weak immunity. He couldn’t believe James had walked away from that, from a guy who had insulted somebody he knew.

 

“Yeah.” The brunette answered quietly.

 

“Then I'm sure law wouldn’t even have intervened. Why’d you not hit him?” Steve asked impatiently, his body thrumming with passive and active anger. Anger at some stupid alpha who thought it was okay to insult others and anger at the alpha in front of him who didn’t show the alpha it wasn’t right.

 

“He was elder to me.” James answered quietly, still not meeting Steve's eyes and keeping his head bowed.

 

“But still a dick.” Steve interjected immediately, his eyes blazing and his scent doing the same. He kept his eyes trained on James, challenging the alpha to meet his eyes, to condone his own actions and to explain to Steve why an asshole didn’t get his ass handed to him.

 

“Yeah, still a dick. But, the person he was insulting, I don’t think they would’ve been happy I hit the guy. Instead I think they'd have come hit me.” The alpha finally lifted his head and looked Steve in the eye, matching the intensity of his gaze with his own. Steve swallowed dryly, any objections or complains he had, dying at the back of his throat.

 

The way James was looking at him, not seeing just him but seeing all of him. Like he was reading Steve inside and out, like he knew Steve, who he was, what made him who he was. Like he just knew Steve.

 

“Then the insulted person probably deserved the insults. You don’t have to beat yourself over it, they sound like an idiot.” He turned away from the scorching gaze of the alpha and grumbled out his answer to the bench under him.

 

“Nah. They’re really smart.” He gave Steve a soft smile and Steve could feel the flush that travelled across his cheeks and nose at the action. It was hard to remember that they were talking about a third person, that James wasn’t talking about him, that the smart person was not Steve. The way James was smiling, the way he looked right now, under the green trees with the wind in his hair, Steve found himself wishing James was talking about him, that Steve put that look in his eyes, the twinkle. As nothing more, just as a friend.

 

“So, we don’t know anything about each other. Wanna tell me something about yourself?” he knew it was stupid way to change the subject but he couldn’t stop himself. The way James was looking at him, the magnetic gaze, Steve had just wanted to get out of that. He averted his eyes from the brunette and cleared his throat again for good measure.

 

“A get-to-know-your-husband?” the brunette questioned, the smile still audible in his voice and Steve chuckled quietly.

 

“Yup. A get-to-know-your-husband. I’ll start. Well… my name is Steve Rogers and I'm twenty years old. I'm an artist and I do graphic designing on the side. I work for Stark Industries and have been doing so for around four years. My hobbies include reading and drawing and if I could be any vacation I’d be a foreign trip.”

 

The brunette suddenly moved forward and held up a finger to Steve's face. Steve smiled at the absolutely hilarious look on his face, the confusion and the thoughtfulness and sank back against the bench as James replayed his words in his head.

 

“Okay. Hold up, that’s so much to unpack. Question number one, why would you be a foreign trip? And question number two, you’ve been working for Stark industries since you were sixteen? How?”

 

“I’d be foreign trip because I want to be.” He smirked at James and was secretly delighted when James gave him a bitch face. Finally someone who appreciated and could pull off a bitch face to match his own.

 

“Do you know Tony Stark?” at James confirming nod, he continued, “ Tony and I met through a mutual friend and we just hit it off. He was-is quick witted and smart and we got along like a house on fire. I showed him some drawing I’d done and he showed it to his father’s secretary. Long story short, one fine morning I get a call from Stark Industries to intern there, designing and creative wing, and I accepted. After a few weeks of interning, Howard Stark came to see me and offered me a job, promising to take care of my education and all and I immediately accepted. So that’s how I started working there at sixteen. All thanks to Tony.” He finished with a flourish and waited for James to stop nodding along and say something.

 

“Wow… that’s amazing.” The brunette smiled proudly at him, his hand coming to pat Steve on the shoulder and retreating immediately. He gave an appreciative nod of his head and saluted Steve playfully. Steve knew he was smiling widely, but he wasn’t ashamed. In all of his life of twenty years, this was what he was proud of, the sole accomplishment of Steve Rogers.

 

“Thanks.” He replied with a cheeky grin. “Now, your chance to brag.”

 

“Nothing to brag about. My name is James Barnes and I'm twenty five years old. I'm an army veteran and volunteer at the VA five days a week. I joined the army when I was eighteen and by the age of twenty I was a highly decorated officer and a sergeant by twenty three. A few months shy of my twenty fifth birthday, I was honourably discharged from the army after a bomb blew up my left arm. The army was kind enough to fit me with a state of the art prosthetic, so I now have a metal and one flesh arm.” He finished with a small smile but Steve could see the pain flashing in those eyes, the reliving of war behind those eyelids. He saw the tightening of James’ shoulders and the furrowing of his brows. Even James’ scent which was floating away in pride and contentment had suddenly seeped down to fear and guilt.

 

He moved a little closer to the brunette and put a hand on his shoulder. He waited till the alpha looked at him and gave him a small, encouraging smile. As the alpha imitated the smile back, his scent copied Steve's scent and settled into contentment again.

 

“You didn’t have to tell me that, James. But I'm so glad you did. Thank you. Thank you for your service and thank you for telling me that.”

 

He waved off Steve's words and kept his gaze fixed on a patch of grass under his feet. “I had to tell you, it concerns you as well. You're husband is part metal and you need to know that.” He attempted a small smile and tried to move away from Steve's hand. Steve let him do so, but he did not shift away from the troubled alpha.

 

“My husband is a hero and that is all I need to know.” He spoke softly and watched as James turned to him in wonder. The alpha’s eyes were growing misty and his mouth was open in amazement. He looked like he was struggling to find words and Steve let him take his time, just sitting close to him and giving him a small smile.

 

“Thank you. Nobody has ever…” the brunette finally whispered, his voice trembling dangerously and Steve's heart thudding uncontrollably.

 

“If nobody has, that’s because they are idiots.” Steve remarks and they both start laughing at that, the soft moment broken immediately as the chuckle at each other for no reason but to break the inevitable silence.

 

“So, Mr Rogers, with all the money Stark Industries is probably paying you, why would you stay in such a small apartment?” James asks as they finally come down from their bout of hysterical laughter. Steve had completely forgotten that James had seen his apartment when they'd shifted his things yesterday. Well that’s embarrassing, given James’ huge house and Steve's reason for the same. But he doesn’t want to lie to James, especially after James’ honesty.

 

He takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. He keeps his eyes averted from James’ as he tries to gain the courage for his answer.

 

“So it doesn’t look too empty with just me staying there.” He whispers, an embarrassing secret he was prepared to take to his grave. He waits for James to say anything, to maybe even laugh at Steve's fear of loneliness, but the brunette does neither.

 

“May I?” James points to his hands and Steve nods. James rests his hand on his intertwined hands and gives them a little squeeze. Steve looks up at the brunette in surprise but he only gives Steve a pained smile and another reassuring squeeze.

 

“When I came back from Afghanistan, I had to play loud music to fall asleep at night, because the house was too quiet and I wasn’t used to that. Out there, there were so many of us, there was never any silence. But back home, it was just me and the loneliness was crippling. I couldn’t handle it, so I’d spend all my day outside. I'd go to the VA, roam around those hipster coffee shops or even come sit on this bench. Maybe now that there are two of us, no more loneliness?” he asks softly, his eyes drowning in hope and his scent praying for the same. Steve smiles at him, wobbly and too wet and squeezes his hand back.

 

“No more loneliness, James.” He smiled at the cute alpha and the alpha returned it with a dazzling grin of his own. Neither of them let go of each other nor did they look away from each other.

 

“You can call me Bucky, you're my husband after all.” He gave an over exaggerated wink with his cheeky grin and Steve was suddenly a lot happier about this whole marriage thing.

 

Arranged marriage or not, stranger or not, screaming and yelling or not, hate and lies or not, they were becoming friends, good friends. He could see it in James’ smile, in the twinkle in his eyes, in the song in his scent, that he was as happy as Steve was about the whole thing, about their friendship, at the funny ways of fate. The universe was a funny thing and Steve was thankful to it.

 

They sat there for hours, talking, laughing and bantering. They watched as the sun set in the horizon and the moon came up to take its place. Even as the world welcomed darkness, Steve saw light. He saw a new light in the form of James’ companionship, in their new friendship and at a place he was starting to think of as home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is Joseph going to do? Is their friendship going to last? 
> 
> Is this cute chapter a deceptive entry to angst and hurt? 
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for all the love, guys. Seriously you are the best. I cherish every Kudos, every comment and every hit. I'm looking forward to your comments, and I'm gonna be a brat and say, Please comment, please, please. At least let me know if you think this happiness is going to last... *Ominous smile*


	7. One Coin, Two Sides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. No excuses, exams suck :(

**_13 th March 2020_ **

“ Good morning, Steve. Did you sleep well?” Steve was barely awake and hanging onto his precious cup of coffee when Bucky came bounding into the kitchen, jogging shorts on thick legs and a tight henley around a similar chest. The henley looked like it was having the struggle of its lifetime keeping itself together on Bucky's chest and Steve was having an equally hard time stopping his jaw from hitting the floor. The sight was too much for this early in the morning.

 

Was Bucky always this ripped?

 

“Morning, Bucky. Yeah, I did. Where are you off to?” he’s immediately overcome by a desire to punch himself when Bucky smirks at him, his eyes travelling down his own body to show off his outfit as if Steve couldn’t see it and guess.  

 

“I’m going for a run, you wanna come?” the brunette asks, turning around to pour himself a sipper of water from the fridge.

 

“No. I think I’ll stay put.” Steve answers immediately and tips the cup into his mouth, swallowing the bitter liquid with a loud gulp.

 

“It’s no hassle if you wanna come. It’s beautiful out there at this time.”

 

“I’m sure it is, but I can’t. I've got asthma and runs tend to bring it on.” Steve answers softly, the subject of his shitty health always being a sore subject for him. Bucky turns back around and looks at Steve, his eyes soft and concern clouding his grey eyes a little.

 

Steve averts his eyes from Bucky's immediately, unable to take the kind look in the alpha’s eyes. He hates it when people pity him, look at him like that and start cooing about his heath like he's a little bird that broke its wing in their backyard. He defensively raise his eyes again after a while and matches Bucky's gaze with a glare of his own.   


 

“Wanna go for a walk?” Bucky questions, the soft look gone from his eyes and an eyebrow raised inquisitively.

 

“What?” Steve gapes at the brunette, wondering if his confession was too quiet that Bucky missed it. There could be no other reason he would ask Steve again, was there? Bucky had not seemed insensitive in the little time Steve's known him, but the blonde was always prepared for surprises, had been ever since his father…

 

“We could start with a slow walk, maybe a stroll, then gradually move onto brisk walking, then jogging and then running. I've heard that, that way you’ll build up the stamina and asthma attacks will reduce. Would that help you?” the alpha asked quietly, shifting the bottle from one hand to another in a nervous manner and biting his lip in anticipation.

 

Steve just stared at him. At the man he still couldn’t believe was real and not a figment of his imagination.

 

“That’s…” Thank you is what he wants to say. _Thank you for understanding, for not pushing, for not being a dick, for not taking over my life, for everything. Thank you for being possibly the best man I know and for being the kindest person in my life. Thank you for being you, Bucky._ But he doesn’t say any of that. “That sounds like a long term plan.” Is what he says instead.

 

“I was hoping it would be. Missing out on the early morning view of Brooklyn, even for a day, is unthinkable.” The brunette smiles up at him slowly, a sight Steve is starting to find more beautiful than the Brooklyn skyline, and Steve unconsciously returns it.

“I’m sure it is. I’ll join you from tomorrow. The view better be worth it, Barnes.” He teases back lightly and feels his heart fill with a pleasant warmth when Bucky throws his head back and laughs.

 

“I promise, darling husband, it’s lit.”

 

*()*

 

“Rogers, my man. Long time, no see. You forget about me or something?” Steve smiled in reply to the smile evident in Sam's  voice and continued staring blankly at the laptop screen in front of him. 

 

“Nah, who could forget you?” he replied tongue in cheek, chuckling softly when he heard Sam do the same on the other side of the phone.

 

“Damn, right they can’t. I leave a mark, baby, can’t forget this handsome face.” He laughs at the alpha and shakes his head fondly, always happy to know that Sam hadn’t lost his enormous amounts of self confidence along the way.

 

“I see, humility hasn’t paid you a visit yet.” He teases back immediately and hears Sam huff in return, his voice also conveying the smile that Steve longs to see again.

 

“And I see that sass hasn’t left the building.”

 

“Yeah, well, can’t wish away quality, Sam.” He's quick to counter, as they both laugh at their fresh and yet practiced banter.

 

“I hate you, man. So why you call? You not in the hospital again, are you?” Memories of a broken nose and stories of a fight in an alley run through his head. He smiles at the memory of Sam on his bedside table as he rose from a morphine induced deep slumber and almost chuckles when he remembers how pissed Sam had looked. He had scared off every nurse on the floor and Steve still rolls on the floor, dying of laughter, when he remembers Sam trying not to shout when he had told him how he'd tried to take on four guys together.

 

Those were some good days and Steve misses them. Not the broken noses and the fights, certainly not the hospitals and bills, but Sam and his mother hen tendencies.

 

“Nah. Just thought we’d catch up.” He shrugs and hits send on the email open on his laptop. He sighs in relief at a work well done and closes the laptop.

 

“Cool. Hit me with the deets. What’s up?” he can hear some shuffling on Sam's  side and from experience he knows Sam's  sitting on his couch, newspaper now thrown on the coffee table and legs pulled up and crossed on the couch. Judging by the time, Sam's just returned from his morning jog and probably still sipping a glass of orange juice.

 

He smiles at the question and takes a deep breath, ready to drown Sam in his ‘deets’.

 

“I just completed my latest work and finished mailing it to Stark, I got married and I might be up for an appraisal.” He finishes in one breath and waits holding the next for Sam's  reply.

 

The alpha stays quiet for a second, his mind probably fried in Steve's haste and it’s a very long minute before he speaks.

 

“Wait a sec, pause and rewind. Did you say you got married?” he asks incredulously.

 

“Yeah. Keep up, Sam. I'm finally up for the appraisal promised to me in January.” Steve tries to change the subject by mentioning his appraisal but he knows it’s a lost cause, even before Sam's  annoyed voice comes through. Sam's  always been good with Steve's deflecting and redirecting. 

 

“Don’t bullshit me, Rogers. You got married? To whom? Was there a secret man in your life you conveniently forgot to tell me about?”  he barks and Steve is convinced that if he had slightly better hearing, he could’ve heard Sam even without the phone, screaming at Steve from his house. He exhales a breath and slowly thinks of how to tell Sam the story of his marriage.

 

He knows Sam's  gonna be pissed when he hears it, will probably go meet Joseph and will also make sure to come and meet Bucky. And he wants to introduce them to each other, he really does, but he doesn’t want Sam coming and going all ‘knight in shining armour on him’. He knows Sam's  got the best intentions in his mind, does the things he does for Steve and his health and wellbeing, but at times it comes across more as a condescending gesture rather than a helping one. And the very thought makes him angry, pissed, mad; but he loves Sam like a brother and yet accepting help from him is unacceptable to Steve, unimaginable even.

 

“No, Sam. He served with my father, I just met him a week ago.” He speaks softly and feels Sam's  indignation before hearing it.

 

“Steve, you're not making any sense. Start from the beginning.”

 

And so Steve does. Tells him everything including the deal. He leaves nothing out but Bucky’s dreams, his slight insecurities that Steve's picked up on, the emotions he has seen in those grey eyes and the beautiful evening they spent in the park. He also ‘conveniently forgets’ to mention that Bucky might be the best thing that’s happened to Steve since he met Sam almost an year ago.

 

“That’s fucked up, Steve. What the fuck was your father thinking? He literally gave you off to an alpha stranger? What if he hurts you? What if he’s like your father?” Sam questions and Steve shuts his eyes closed at that. Bucky is not like his father, couldn’t be. Steve's been treated more as a human by Bucky in the past few days, than his mother or he have been treated their whole lives by his father. Bucky didn’t except Steve to share a bed with him or be good in the kitchen or play the role of a maid in his house. He invited Steve into his house and gave him a place to call home.

 

He gave Steve all that his father had never given him, without asking Steve for anything in return. If Bucky was anything like his father, then his father was the nicest man Steve's met in a while.

 

“He’s not like that, Sam. He isn’t my father.” The conviction in his voice forced Sam to stop for a second and think. It was silent on the phone line for a long second, before Sam's  tired voice came through, defeated and about done with Steve.

 

“And how would you know? I'm coming over. I need to meet this guy.”

 

“Sam there's no need. Listen to me, man.” Steve objected, albeit weakly, but Sam didn’t deter from his decision.

 

“No, you listen to me. If he’s a good guy, then it’s no issue, he’ll tolerate me. If he's a douche, we’ll know.”

 

“I don’t like the plan and I'm not gonna let you go through with it. I don’t need you looking out for me, Sam. I can look after myself. Don’t need an alpha to protect me.” His voice hardened and he found himself scowling at the phone. He forced himself to take a few deep breaths and downed a glass of water in the time Sam answered.

 

“I know that, Steve. I know you're more than capable yourself, but that doesn’t need you don’t need help. I'm not coming to save you, I'm coming to help you. I just wanna see the guy and get to know him a little, see if he's like your father. Just that, I promise.” Sam spoke softly, knowing Steve's issues with giving up control, with letting an alpha be in charge. Steve could almost see him throw his hands up and approach Steve calmly, face open and scent clear, as he tried to get his point across efficiently and not hurt Steve's inner activist.

 

“No alpha growling and alpha posturing. If I see that sexist shit, I'm sending you home.” He warned quietly and could see Sam nod at him, mouth pulled into a grin and arms crossed across his chest.

 

“Ay, ay, captain. So dinner at 7?”

 

“Dinner at 6. I’ll see you then. Bye.” He amended quickly and waited for Sam to hang up.

 

“Bye.”  Sam hung up and Steve got up from the chair and fell into bed, rubbing his hands down his face and through his hair.

 

 Steve was kinda hoping this would happen. Bucky was an amazing guy and he knew Sam and he would get along splendidly. He met Bucky's friends and he wanted Bucky to meet his own. He wanted them to be the kind of friends who knew each other’s friends, were comfortable with each other and their friends and did not feel the need to put up masks for each other.

 

Bucky was his new friend and he did not want to spoil it yet, did not want his mom to suffer or himself for that matter. Buck had a lot of power in his hands and Steve had to thread lightly… 

 

*()*

 

“A friend of mine is coming over for dinner today.” Steve broached the subject with Bucky as soon as he came out of the shower, his hair dripping water droplets onto his t-shirt and sweatpants hung low on his lips. He stopped on his way to the couch and turned to look at Steve who stood between the couch and the television. 

 

“That’s great, Steve. Do you want me to leave?” the brunette asked cheerfully as he sat down on the couch and motioned for Steve to do the same. Steve hesitated for a second before sighing softly and moving to take a seat next to Bucky.

 

“Oh, no. I was kinda hoping he could meet you and we all could have dinner together.” He asked nervously, his hands finding their way to the throw pillows immediately and teeth worrying his bottom lip between them. Bucky's gaze dropped from his eyes to his mouth and then his hands and he scooted closer to the blonde.

 

He raised both his hands so Steve could see them and slowly, deliberately placed them on Steve's wandering ones. He squeezed gently, his chocolate scent also doing its job in calming Steve and Steve finally released his lip from his teeth.

 

“Ah. He's coming to judge me. Will I be getting a shovel talk?” he asked mischievously, withdrawing his hands and doing a shovel motion with his hands, all the while wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

 

“No…no. of course not. That’s not gonna happen.”

 

“The judging is not gonna happen or the shovel talk? Cause I'm looking forward to one of them and it sure ain’t the judging.” He chuckled at that and Steve also had to smile at that. He shook his head and turned his head to the side, his gaze catching on the television and forced the next lump of words to leave his throat.

 

“Okay, the judging is gonna happen but not the shovel talk. He knows the…uh…circumstances of our marriage. So, no shovel talk.” Steve answered quietly, waiting for Bucky to say something, anything.

 

“Meh, took the fun out of it, man. But I'm ready to be judged. What have you told him about me?”

 

Steve's head snapped back to look at Bucky and how coolly the alpha was taking all this. He didn’t appear half as nervous as Steve did and he was the one getting questioned.

 

He kept silent for a long time before Bucky's inquisitive eyebrow and gentle prompting reminded him of the question the alpha had asked.

 

“That you are a vet and that you own a house.”

 

“Went all out, did we?” he smirks at Steve and then continues, “ So, tell me about him. Is he a prospective date or an existing date?”

 

“Sam, is just a friend. No dating there. He's also a vet and lives in Queens. He is a decent karaoke singer and annoyingly funny. His mom makes the world’s best potpie and his sister’s kids are angels.” Steve tried to control the word vomit but they happened before he could stop them. He watched amusement grow on Bucky's face and felt his own turn red and hot. His scent was stuck between having fun and being embarrassed but Bucky's scent seemed to have found a permanent place in amusement and down right merriment.

 

“So let me get this straight. You told me all about his mother’s amazing potpie and his sense of humour, but you forgot to tell him about my delicious lasagna and my never ending set of skills ranging from singing to dancing and origami? How could you, Steve? How could you?!” his eyes bugged out of his eyes and his mouth fell open at Steve's betrayal. Steve had to fight every tooth and nail in his small body to keep from laughing but that didn’t stop his scent from singing mirth.

 

“Hey! In my defence I didn’t know these skills either, so the blame’s really on you.” He countered, never to back down from a competition even in case of fun.

 

“Okay, so let’s set the record straight today. I’ll make my lasagna today and you both can taste it and tell me how good it is. How’s that?”  Bucky extended an arm for him to shake and he shook it, both wearing sly grins on their face and competition in their eyes.

 

“Sounds fun.” And just like that all of Steve's nervousness vanished and he found himself looking forward to the evening.

 

“Oh it is gonna be.” Steve almost lost it at Bucky's excited face but he held it in with a small smile at the beaming brunette. This night was going to be exiting…

(*)

“Steve, I swear to god, if you burn that lasagna I'm gonna kill you in your sleep.” Bucky waved a spatula in his face and Steve immediately backed away from the microwave, his hands held above his head and innocence painted on his face.

 

“I'm not burning it, I'm just not sure you’ve set the timer correct. It seems too short.” He defended and slowly lowered his hands to gesture towards the microwave.

 

“Which one of us is a) wearing the cook’s apron, b) makes the best lasagna in Brooklyn, c) bought the oven and knows its settings by heart and d) is not the one who burnt his toast in the morning?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, settled with his hip against the kitchen counter and placed a hand on his hip, eyebrows cocked in competition and lips curled in amusement.

 

“Hey! That’s unfair. It was too early in the morning and I was only on my first cup of coffee. Toast making is coffee number two chore.”

 

Steve folded his hands across his chest and stared at Bucky defiantly, challenging him to disprove of that. Bucky smiled back at him, eyes twinkling in merriment and turned back towards the stove.

“You and your coffee: the romance of the century.” He fondly shakes his head at the pouting blonde and stirs the pot, soft smile still on his lips.

 

“As if you and doughnuts are not the modern day Romeo Juliet. You should see your face when you finish eating them, Shakespeare would applaud that drama.”

 

Steve moved towards the counter adjacent to the counter with the stove and pulled himself to sit on it. He sat down with a huff and immediately started swinging his legs and munching on the cashew nuts placed nearby.

 

Bucky moved quickly, lightning fast in Steve's exaggerated opinion and smacked his hand right out of that cashew nut bowl, raising the spatula in warning again and glaring till Steve dropped his hand.

 

“Well it takes one drama queen to know another.” Bucky said after a while, smile back on his face and spatula safely back inside the custard he was stirring.

 

“Me?” Steve splays his hand on his chest for the extra dramatic flair “A drama queen? How dare you, sir? I would never!”

 

“Yeah, no drama there.” Bucky teases immediately, throwing his head back in laughter and lighting a little warmth in Steve's chest. He smiled at the cackling brunette and shook his head softly, waiting for Bucky to stop chuckling and let him taste the custard.

 

The bell rang then disrupting both men from their very serious discussion. Steve smiled in glee and ran out of the kitchen to meet his best friend. He threw open the door and opened his arms wide for the taller man to fall in. Sam smiled at him, his cinnamon scent enveloping Steve at the same time Sam did and Steve laughed into his shoulder.

 

“Come in asshole, you're late.” He admonished gently and moved back to let Sam enter. Sam entered with a appreciative nod towards the house and immediately moved to remove his shoes at the door.

 

“It’s not my fault I'm late, 6 is too early for dinner.” He defended with a smile and Steve fake glared at him till he started laughing. He gestured towards the couch and they both were on their way when Bucky came to the foyer, welcoming smile on his face.

 

Steve moved to stand beside Sam as he introduced the two, but the moment the two alphas saw each other, their faces lit in recognition.

 

“Sam?!”

 

“James?”

 

Steve stared between the two in wonder and amazement until he finally found his voice.

 

 “You two know each other? How the fuck?”

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are very very welcome. Please validate me XD


	8. Sam, The Wise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is done with his two white boys...

“You two know each other? How the fuck?”

 

Both alphas turned towards Steve, as if just realising that he was standing there. Steve, in turn, took turns turning towards both Sam and Bucky and waiting for a reply that was taking too long to come.

 

“I’m still waiting.” He crossed his arms across his chest and glared at his best friends and husband, tapped his foot impatiently as his face twisted into a frown.

 

“Sam is a fellow volunteer at the VA. That’s how we know each other.” Bucky answered immediately and Steve was struck with a sudden desire to smack his own forehead. How could he forget, how had it slipped his mind. Sam and Bucky were both veterans, both attended the VA and both volunteered at it. Of course they would know each!

 

“Oh shit! How could I forget?” he murmured and invited Sam to the living room, from where the conversation flowed. Bucky and Sam each sipped from a bottle of beer, while Steve stuck to a glass of water. He smiled at the alphas bickering and laughed when they poked fun at each other. He hid his face in his hand when Sam narrated embarrassing stories about him to Bucky, (walking around town with a fake moustache painted on his face after the one time he accidentally fell asleep at Sam's  place totally did not warrant the beer that Bucky had snorted up his nose), and laughed till his stomach hurt at Sam's  stories about Bucky (Bucky, macho alpha, running into a tree because he was too distracted cooing over a cat, is the best thing that Steve's ever heard in his life, and nobody can change his mind).

 

The boys did not let Sam off the hook either, taking turns dishing to each other about the general mess that was Sam Wilson.

 

“Once he pissed off his sister’s daughter, so in retaliation she poured hair colouring dye into his shampoo. He had red hair for a week.”

 

“Once at a social gathering organised by the VA, Sam ate a bunch of donuts from a stall, assuming them to be free like all other treats at the VA. Turns out they were not and he had to stand there and volunteer for them till I went and paid for all he ate.”

 

 

“He fell asleep in my studio and face planted into my colour palette. Best thing I ever painted and I didn’t even have to do anything.”

 

“He fell asleep here on the couch during movie night and while sleep talking admitted that he was terrified of Natasha and that he wanted to be the princess during some tea party.”

 

“Once he pissed off Tony and had a little bug follow him around every where for two whole days. He couldn’t poop or shower, it was fucking hilarious.”

 

“This one time-”

 

 

“Oh my god! Are you two done? I'm sorry for bringing u embarrassing stuff about you. Can we please stop. Please. I was promised there would be dinner.” Sam grumbled after a while, his face pulled in a pout but scent still lingering in the happy territory. Steve smiled at the dark skinned alpha and turned towards Bucky, lifting a eyebrow in question and gesturing towards his best friend.

 

“What do you say, Bucky? Should we let him off the hook?”

The brunette grinned at Steve, his eyes sparkling and Steve was instantly captivated by the twinkle in his eye. He swallowed dryly and met Bucky's gaze with his own, grin in place and amusement in the air.

 

“I think we should. We did promise him dinner and there's a world class lasagne in the oven.” He winked at Steve and got up from his chair, making his way to the kitchen and pulling out the lasagne. Steve sat frozen on the couch, his cheeks hurting from smiling at the brunette and came out of his stupor only when Sam cleared his throat deliberately.

 

“C’mon Sam, lets have dinner.” He rushed into the dining room, without looking back at Sam. He could guess the look on Sam's  face and he wasn’t ready to see it yet.

 

 (*)

After dinner they retired into the patio out back. Dinner had been a splendid affair. The lasagne, just like Bucky had promised was mind blowing and Steve had been unable to control himself. Both Sam and Steve had dived into it with a vengeance and, Steve's pretty sure, also made some very disturbing noises. They complimented Bucky on dinner and it was pleasing to see the alpha turn all five shed of red under the praise. When Steve made a joke of finally gaining some weight under Bucky reign in the kitchen, both Sam and Bucky had turned to look at him.

 

Bucky with a amused glint in his eye, promising Steve in a very grandma like voice, that he wouldn’t let him starve to death and Sam with something absolutely unreadable on his face. Just like before, Steve turned away from it before he could begin to analyse it.

 

It was a wooden structure, looking out into a small garden out back with a metal railing and a couple of wooden steps down to the garden. Steve leaned on the railing, his back to the railing and Sam took residence in one of the chairs. Bucky took the place to Steve's right and Steve gave him a small smile at the gesture.

 

Silence lulled by full bellies and full hearts, the men were quiet as they stood out on the patio. There were crickets chirping in the background, their voices weaving into the calm that settled around them instead of disturbing it, and Steve was thankful for it. Out here, in the midst of a dark sky and a garden full of flowers. Standing with his best friend and close friend, Steve was finally home, or as close to it as he could get. 

 

The silence finally came to an end when Bucky's phone suddenly rang. All three men jumped out of their skin at the sudden noise and then immediately started laughing at their own reaction. Bucky politely excused himself, and went inside, which was apparently the opportunity Sam was waiting for. He sidled up to Steve and leaned on the railing casually, but his words conveyed anything but that.

 

 

 

“You seem happy for somebody forced into a marriage by his asshole father.” Sam asked once they were alone on the balcony.

 

“I’m happy. Mom’s safe and happy and I'm at peace. And Bucky's also such a great guy. He's a good guy, Sam.” Steve shrugged and turned away to look at the well kept backyard. There were flower bed on all four sides and a small hedge next to the steps descending from the patio. He mentally made a note to help Bucky in the garden from tomorrow and also to get a few seeds of fruits or vegetables they could grow there. 

 

“Yeah, he is. It’s great you guys ended up like this…”

 

“But?” Steve interrupted, turning sideways to face Sam, when he seemed to trail off with the sentence in lieu of continuing.

 

“But, this is not like you. You don’t get acquainted with an alpha so quick, much less friendly, but here you are playing house with an alpha stranger barely a week after knowing him. Hell seeing him.” Sam finished in a rush, his voice going high in both wonder and anxiety and Steve's heart swelled a little at the concern his friend was showing. He placed a hand on Sam's  forearm and smiled at him softly.

 

“That’s because Bucky is different, Sam. He's not like those condescending, overbearing knotheads I've seen my whole life. He's kind and understanding and friendly. He doesn’t carry the beliefs of an archaic system and he isn’t rubbing the hierarchy in my face. He's so nice, he might be the nicest alpha I've ever met.” Sam's eyes met his then and he smiled in return, his scent easing up on the anxiety and instead returning slowly to its calm nature, before his eyes widened in shock.

 

“You fucking asshole! I'm the nicest alpha you’ve ever met.” He shrieked after a while and Steve doubled over in laughter.

 

“You just called me an asshole.” He wheezed out in between laboured breaths and could hear more than see Sam's  smug smile when he spoke.

 

“Touché.”

 

The best friends were quiet for a while, Sam sipping from his beer and Steve lost in the count of different colours he saw in thei- Bucky's garden. He had gotten up to three before Sam spoke again, his voice quiet, so quiet it blended right into the calm around them.

 

“Did he tell you about that little dream of his? A partner and kids and the whole nine yards?”

 

“Yeah. One of the first things he told me about himself, just after his name.” he smiled at the memory of the first time he met the alpha. The shy, embarrassed alpha who had deemed it fit to apologise to Steve for something his father had done. He remembers thinking of that as a mistake, but now married to Bucky, it doesn’t seem like a mistake anymore. He's free now, has more freedom than he ever had and a huge part of him is happy about it. The other half worries about Bucky broken dreams, the white picket fence in the garden that still isn’t the finished picture of Bucky's happy family.

 

It’s almost selfish how happy Steve is here, where he doesn’t have to worry about groceries, cable, bills and loneliness. He can pretend to himself that he doesn’t feel at home here, that its still lacking something, but it’s not. He's happy here, really happy, more happy than he had been in his own house or his rickety apartment. His dad isn’t being an asshole to his mom, there are no screaming voices, nobody is banging on his door calling out what a disappointment he is and neither is he being smothered in loneliness.  

 

“That dream is him, a very special part of him. He talked about it extensively at the VA in the first few months he was back. He thinks it that’s what got him out of there, safe and alive. Not many people survive what he did, Steve, in fact hardly anybody does. That dream is the salvation of a man who lost everything but himself.” Sam added in a small whisper, turning to look at Steve and smiling sadly. Steve cant bring himself to meet Sam's  gaze, cant bring himself to read to much into Sam's  words. Sam is his best friend, he can read Steve inside out and vice versa, but today Steve hopes that wasn’t true, that he was an enigma to Sam. Because, today, he's himself not sure what Sam can see on his face, what Sam's  reading into.

 

“What are you trying to tell me? What are you getting at?” he asks in a hoarse whisper, his voice closing off at the intensity of Sam's gaze and the seriousness of their conversation.

 

“Don’t get too attached, Steve. You don’t have a place in that dream and that dream did not end with you. James still wants that and you should remind yourself of that. Don’t fall where there's no one to catch you.”

 

“Are you crazy? Bucky and I are just friends, Sam. We barely know each other and I'm not thinking of any-” he splutters in indignation. He knows that, knows that James is still searching for his partner, his love, his family. He knows that he isn’t it, knows nobody could want him like that. Sam's  got this all wrong, Steve's not looking to make a home here with James, as much as he feels he already has, he's just here till either of them finds somebody else.

 

“You guys don’t know each other well, but I know you, Steve. And I know that look in your eye. That twinkle. I saw it for Tony and now I'm seeing it for James. Just be careful and please don’t say anything.” He implored and Steve acquiesced. 

 

He didn’t say anything, because he didn’t know what to say. Sam could think whatever he wanted, but that didn’t make it the truth. Steve was not in love with Bucky, nor did he have any feelings for the brunette. Bucky is not Tony and will not become Tony either.

 

He felt he had a home here with the brunette. Felt a sense of peace and quiet he had never felt anywhere else. Felt safe and protected here with Bucky. But that didn’t mean it was anything more than friendship, Steve didn’t even want it to be.

 

Bucky had dreams and Steve was not gonna get in between that.

 

*()*

 

Bucky joins them after a while. The two best friends stayed quiet in the aftermath of their talk, but Sam could still feel the tension in the air, could taste Steve's thoughts at the back of his tongue. He hadn’t meant to push Steve into anything he wasn’t comfortable with, hadn’t even meant to impose any feelings on him either. But, he knew Steve, knew the omega almost as good as he the omega knew him. He could see the hope in Steve's eyes, the smile in his words, the happiness in his smile. After a very long time he was starting to see the Steve he had seen with Tony, free, happy and carefree. He didn’t want Steve to lose that, to lose a chance to have that permanently.

 

He watched quietly as James came out on to the patio and Steve's entire demeanour changed. He seemed almost relieved by James’ entry, his face splitting into a wide grin and it only confirmed Sam's  doubts about his feelings.

 

Almost as if sensing his thoughts, Steve's cheery expression fell and he moved away from the two of them. He made some half murmured excuse about serving dessert and left the two alphas out on the patio.

 

“How do you know him?” as soon as Steve disappeared behind the patio door, James rounded on him, eyebrow as always inquisitively raised, but posture otherwise relaxed.

 

“When Riley died…” Sam swallowed the lump in his throat and continued, fighting the tears that always came with the memory of Riley’s death, “he was at the funeral with his dad. Everybody was consoling the family and I was of course not a part of it. He came over, sat next to me and very softly said that he was sorry for my loss. I might have cried for over an hour on his shoulder but he never pushed me away. Let me cry all I wanted and kept my secret safe for me.” He finished just as quietly, always hating that one of his life’s favourite memories also coincided with one of his worst.

 

Meeting Steve had been a blessing. After his army tenure and losing riley, Steve had been the balm to all his wounds. He remembers making last minute dinner and late night movie plans with the blonde because his apartment had always seemed too quiet and the loneliness left in Riley’s wake too all consuming. The blonde never questioned it either, always there as a shoulder for Sam to cry on or an ear to talk off. He was there every day for almost a year. As Sam's  friend, his strength, his backbone and Sam's eternally thankful to him for that, for everything that Steve Rogers is.    

 

He's thankful to Steve and their friendship for what he is today, because otherwise, with the only reason he came out alive from the war buried six feet under, he was also really tempted to end up back there.

 

“How did he know?” James questioned after some time, his voice lacking the curiosity Sam had come to expect but instead doused in a melancholic sympathy that he absolutely despised.

 

“I don’t know, man. He's a smart kid, he figured it out.” He shrugged because as loathe he was to admit it, he also didn’t know how Steve knew, what gave him away. He remembers that day as clear as yesterday. The sky clear and bright, birds chirping overhead, sun shining high and mighty in the sky. It had been a beautiful day, a day perfect for a wedding, but instead delegated to a funeral.

 

He remembers sitting far away from Riley’s family, his sobbing mother and stoic father. He remembers not knowing if he had any right to grieve alongside them, if he was even welcome. He remembers Riley joking about how his father would probably disown him for falling for another alpha, how his mother would probably try to talk him out of it, how his brother would be the only one on his side. He really didn’t feel like checking if that was true.

 

He doesn’t know or remember how Steve found him, what he knew about his past or what he saw in his tears, but he does remember Riley.

 

He remembers Riley’s husky voice in his ear, telling him how he's worth it. How he's worth the disowning, the slurs, the out casting. He remembers Riley’s last words as he lay in Sam's  lap, blood covering his eye, as tears blurred Sam's own, wiping away his tears and giving him a small smile.

 

_Be strong, beloved, and go home. This isn’t worth it, losing your life to fight somebody else’s war. Go home and be happy. Next time you remember me, you’d better do it with a goddamn smile on that face, cause I'm definitely watching you from above. Love you, Sam, literally till the day I die._

He hadn’t kept that word. He'd remembered Riley while at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey, he'd remembered Riley in the midst of a nervous breakdown, he'd remembered Riley when he finally came home, without his home by his side, he'd remembered Riley in the midst of his long prolonged war with PTSD. He'd remembered Riley in every scenario, circumstance and situation and tonight wasn’t any different.

 

He wiped away a tear that escaped his eye and turned away to look at the starless sky above them.

 

“Yeah, he is. Pretty damn sweet too.” James’ voice broke him out of his reverie. It took him a second to realise who James was talking about, and he dried his eyes in the time it took for him to find his voice again.

 

“Sweet, huh? Living the picket fence life here, Barnes?” he teased lightly, his voice a little hoarse and words a little wobbly, and thankfully James pretended not to notice it.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sam. He's a kid, fresh faced and naïve. Anything between us would be-” the brunette shuddered and Sam turned to him in a flash, disbelieve clouding his scent and his features.

 

“A kid? He’s twenty.”

 

“Barely a year older than Pietro. And not to mention, I'm twenty five.” James counters and Sam shuts his mouth. He knows Pietro, knows James’ past with him, knows how different and similar this whole situation is for him. He places a hand on James’ shoulder and gives him a little squeeze.

 

“He would’ve been thirteen when you were eighteen, is that what you're thinking?” he asks quietly, noticing the memories that flash in front of James’ eyes at that. He gives James the time to answer and leaves his hand exactly where it is, a grounding touch, an anchor.

 

“Yeah. If it was wrong then, it is wrong now. I do not understand how that would change.” James says and his spine straightens. Sam knows James well enough to see the alpha posturing in that stance, the end of the conversion in those words. He knows dominion when he feels it and this is James’ way of establishing his in his own matters.

 

But Sam's  stubborn in his own way, unyielding and alpha like in all ways that count. He turns James around by his shoulder and almost retaliates in kind when James scent flashes in anger but keeps his emotions in check.

 

“Because he's a…” Sam freezes then as Steve enters. He narrows his eyes at James, promising him that this conversation is not over and turns to help Steve with the dessert. James does the same, politely thanking the omega and leaning back against the railing.

 

Sam watches the two of them, James on the railing and Steve on the patio chair and he knows that this is going to be tough. They both are the most stubborn people he's ever seen and getting them to see any reason is bullshit. But he's going to try, for sure.

 

For the happiness that Steve deserves and the family that James wants.

(*)

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I've ever thanked you guys for all the support you provide me with. Thank you so much. 
> 
> Thank you for still reading despite irregular updates.  
> Thank you for always letting me know when I mess up the chapter numbers.   
> Thank you for every kudos, every comment.  
> Thank you for being so patient when I go MIA for days on end.  
> Thank you for never demanding updates.  
> Thank you for sticking with me through my self doubt and subsequent dearth in updates.  
> Thank you for being the best readers in the world, never pushy and always there with positive feedback and constructive criticism. 
> 
> Thank you all, you guys mean so much to me, that words could never convey my gratitude...


	9. Ghosts of the Past, Seldom Leave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghosts of the past visit the boys...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.

**_15 th March 2020 _ **

“Everyday it becomes harder to get out of bed, to face the world. It feels like betrayal, all those men there in Afghanistan, fighting a war from which there’s no escape, while I sleep safe and comfortable in my bed. It feels like I'm alive because of them and yet I'm ungrateful, disrespectful to all they’ve done for me.”

 

Bucky nodded along with them and gave them a small smile when they finished talking. He took a deep breath as he looked around the bare cream walls of his office and tapped his pen against his note pad.

 

“You’ve got nothing to feel guilty for, Harry. None of this is wrong, you're allowed to have this. You're not betraying your men, you're not erring by trying to live your life. Happiness is a gift, Harry, and you’ve a chance at that, don’t throw it away. That life is over, you can’t go back. What we can do, is start over. It-”

 

A knock to his door interrupted him and Nick, the receptionist’s, face popped in through the crack.

 

“Sergeant, there’s somebody out there to meet you.” He said in one breath.

 

“I’ll be right there, Nick, thank you.”

 

“Then I’ll ask her to wait in the lobby.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Bucky nodded politely at the receptionist and smiled back when he smiled at him. Once Nick disappeared behind the closed door, he turned towards Harry again, the smile dropping from his face instead empathy taking its place. He looked at the far corner of the office, voice dropping an octave lower as he got lost in his own nightmares and saw the war flash in his own eyes as he spoke.

 

“You’ve nothing to feel guilty about, Harry. You did your part in the war, you sacrificed a part of yourself. The men out there, they’re doing the same. We cannot feel sorry for everybody who’s stuck there fulfilling their part, all we can do is pray for them and help them in ways we can. Go visit their families, play with their kids, maybe write them a letter. Your life is a gift they’ve given you and you cannot throw it away by crawling into your covers every morning and refusing to come out. This remorse, guilt that you're feeling, it’s not gonna help them or you, so it’s best to nip it in the bud and move on. You’ve done your part, let others do the same. Do you understand me?” he questions loudly as he finishes talking and turns to look at Harry.

 

Harry nods their head and looks down before speaking, a hint of remorse and empathy in their voice too, like they could see the horrors that Bucky could.

 

“Yes. Thank you, James. These talks help a lot.” They answer with a smile and stand to shake Bucky's hand. Bucky offers a hand in return and gives a firm shake, returning the smile and feeling content without the guilt in Harry’s scent.

 

“That’s what we’re here for, Harry. Thank you for coming in. I’ll see you at the group session on Thursday.”

 

“Sir, yes, sir.” They smirk and Bucky returns the smirk, knowing well that they were a captain in their serving days and easily Bucky's senior. He gives a mock salute to the retreating alpha and makes his way to the lobby, ready to meet his visitor after a satisfying session. 

 

He's expecting blonde hair and a bony body. He's expecting high cheekbones and the sweet scent of vanilla. He's expecting a male body and pale complexion.

 

What he's not expecting is long, brown hair and a full, curvy body. What he's not expecting are round cheeks and the strong scent of paprika. What he's not expecting is a female body and pale complexion.

 

“Wanda?”

 

“Hey, Bucky. Missed me?” comes her reply, words confident yet tone slightly off. She flings her eyes nervously around the room before they settle on him and the action unsettles him immediately. He feels his scent spike in fight mode and in return her eyes narrow at him.

 

“Of course, I.. uh.. what are you doing here, Wanda?” he grips and sees her shoulders tighten.

 

“Straight to the point, I see.” She takes a deep breath and looks at him with an unreadable look in her eyes. “I spoke to Pietro.” She looks straight into his eyes and he is reminded of all he times he's believed she can read his very soul. He fidgets under the intensity of her gaze but straightens immediately and answers her challenge with his defiance.

 

“Oh. He tell you what happened?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Then you should know I kept my word. You asked me to stay away from your brother and I did.” He answers coolly like that sentence and the subsequent memories don’t burn his mouth and heart as he speaks them.

 

His thoughts fly back to that faithful night, a year and a half back, when she had come to meet him, the setting similar and yet so different. That day the situation had been a little different, Bucky had two hands and Wanda had been a lot more scarier. He remembers the then newly eighteen turned teenager at his door, eyes ablaze in anger and mouth twisted in a scowl. Remembers the subsequent angry words and insults. Remembers the feeling of his heart breaking.   

 

_You're a disgusting human being, James. Scum, a fucking knothead._

 

“I know you did, Bucky, I’m…I don’t-” the young alpha began and then stopped, her nervous eyes flinging from Bucky to the sofas and back to the door behind them. She looked around the bare walls while Bucky tapped his foot impatiently on the floor.

 

“This is my place of work, Wanda, if there's nothing you want to say to me, then I suggest you leave. Now, please.” He turns away from her and starts walking back to the office, leaving the young alpha tongue tied. Her nervous and afraid scent follows him, but he opts to ignore it in favour of his own anger.

 

There had been a time when he would be never left her this distressed, when the sight of a nervous Wanda would’ve made him a mess, when he would’ve tried anything to soothe her. But that was a long time ago, some very angry words ago.

 

_You're so much older than him and you want him? Somebody you should’ve always seen as a brother, but instead you wish to bed him?_

 

“I made a mistake. I made a grave mistake, Bucky. I should’ve never told you to stay away from Pietro, never come in between you guys. I… I don’t know what I was afraid of, I just…” she began and Bucky turned around in spite of himself. He looked over her, her red eyes and her equally flushed face and took a step towards her, the brotherly instincts he believed he had buried a long time ago, resurfacing at just the sight of the breaking girl.   

 

“You know what you're afraid of, Wanda. You’ve always known and you still do. What I don’t understand is why you won’t tell me. Why did you ask me to stay away from him? Why did you separate us? What is it, what’s got you all tense?” he asked quietly, forcing his scent to settle and radiate calmness, not anger. He cleared his thoughts and focussed on the young alpha in front of him, even as they tried hard to wander in the past and file through their last interaction.

 

_When you turned 18, the day you became legal, he was just 12. If it was wrong then, it’s wrong now._

“I thought you were going to be like the others. The alphas who would only help us in exchange of something. I was afraid you’d hurt him, use him till you got bored.”

 

Something inside him broke then.

 

 “You thought I was capable of something like that? After all the time you’d known me?” he almost yelled, hardly able to believe the words coming out of the mouth of the young girl he had raised, looked after, cared for. He thought back to all the times he'd held her when she cried, had bandaged her wounds, saved her from starvation. Had this been there in her thoughts then? Had she always thought he was after their vulnerability only?

 

_You stay away from my brother. Don’t try to trap him in your vile deceptions. You abused his vulnerability, our despair._

 

“I didn’t know whom to trust. We were so young then and you seemed so nice. As we grew older, you never changed and that was scary. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for you to become like all other men. I was afraid for my little brother, Bucky, he was besotted with you and you returned those feelings. I was sure that was a trap, that you were just looking for a young body. I couldn’t help it, he wasn’t even 18, how was I to think different.” She wailed and took a step towards him, seeking comfort in her grief, from the tears she was shedding.

 

Bucky took a step back from her, his mouth falling open in shock at the accusation, at what she had believed of him. His scent sobbed in sorrow at the lose of trust he had never had, at memories the both of them had seen differently. What he had believed to be some of the best memories of his life were apparently Wanda’s time spent with a monster.

 

“I wasn’t going to make a move on him before he was 18. I'm not a monster. I know it was wrong to have feelings for somebody years younger to me, was gross and disgusting and I get it. But my feelings were never wrong. I genuinely liked him, loved him even, I would’ve never hurt him. Never.” He was almost down to his knees, sobbing his heart out. He took a deep breath and looked straight at her, closing off his eyes to all emotions and forcing his scent into neutrality.  

_You make me sick. Being all nice to us, just to have my brother in your bed. I'm ashamed I ever thought of us as a brother, you make me sick. A monster, a wolf in sheep’s clothing._

 

“I know. I know that now. I'm sorry, Bucky. I'm so sorry. Please don’t break my brother’s heart, please don’t. He’s so sad. He hasn’t eaten in days, he's been crying non-stop and I don’t know how to stop it, don’t know how to calm him down. Please help me, please don’t let my brother hurt for something I did.” She took another step towards him and Bucky couldn’t bring himself to move away. She clutched his hands between her own and sobbed into their intertwined hands, her scent making the air around them clog with unhappy and grief stricken pheromones.

 

“I did what you asked of me. I broke both our hearts because you made me promise to. I can’t keep going back and forth with him like this, Wanda. What excuse am I gonna make? I suddenly don’t see him as a brother or that I'm suddenly into incest?” he questioned, trying and failing to keep his tone snarky. He closed his eyes as another burst of the past flashed in front of them and he felt his knees wobbling pathetically again.

_Stay away from him and keep your feelings and hands to yourself. My brother is never to be yours._

“I'm sorry. I really am. I’ll explain to him. I’ll tell him that whatever happened, happened because of me. I’ll tell him about the promise you made me. I’ll fix it, Bucky. Please let me fix it. He's heartbroken and I can’t see it anymore. Please, give my brother another chance. Give me another chance.”

 

“He’s not gonna forgive you for this, Wanda. Are you sure you’ll be able to handle that? Handle his anger and contempt? Are you willing to sabotage your relationship with your brother to make my relationship with him work?” he asked quietly, his eyes widening in surprise.

 

Wanda looked straight into his eyes, her gaze strong and unwavering, like her spirit, and nodded at him. She squeezed his hands reassuringly and took a step back from him, dropping her hands to the sides.

 

“If that’s what makes him happy, then yes. A thousand times yes.” She replied with conviction.

 

“You'd do that?” at her affirming nod, he continued, “You're an amazing sister. He's lucky to have you.” He smiled at her softly and she returned the gesture, albeit a little sad.

 

“Not that amazing. I destroyed the one good thing in his life before he could even have it. That doesn’t make me a good sister, it makes me the worst.” She amended and he felt his heart break for her. She was justified in her stance, for the decision she made, for the words she said. She wasn’t wrong in assuming what she did, given the kind of life both of them had led and she had lashed out in a way Bucky would also have done. Had somebody come to harm Wanda or Pietro, he would’ve done the same, would’ve broken them before they could even try.

 

“You had your reasons, your fears. He’ll understand, I'm sure. Or I can talk to him, if you’d be okay with that.”

 

“Guess I'm gonna have to green light all your interactions from now on, huh?” she smiled at him and he looked down as he felt his cheeks burn. She smirked at his reaction and then continued, “Talk to him after I'm done. I'm sure he’ll come running to you afterwards.”

 

He nodded in reply and she took a step forward, coming to stand in his personal space and threw her hands around him, enveloping him in a long overdue hug. He hugged her back just as tightly, the memories of that faithful night disappearing in her arms and only the happy memories surfacing again.

 

“Take care of my brother, James. If you hurt him, I’ll cut your dick and feed it to the pigeons.” She threatened, but the threat was undercut by the tears in her eyes and the fondness in her voice. He laughed into his shoulder and fought his own tears.

 

“Ooo, shovel talk. Been waiting for one. I’ll take care of him, Wanda. I’ll always take care of him. He's safe with me, I promise. Otherwise, you know where to find me.” He answered seriously and let go of her, stepping back to let her get herself together again.

 

She smiled at him as she wiped her eyes and gave him a grateful smile which he returned.

 

“Thank you. I guess, I’ll see you later. Bye, James. Take care.”

 

“You too, Wanda. And remember, if you ever wanna talk, I'm there.”

 

“Thank you.” She turned around and started walking out of the VA, leaving Bucky with a full heart and overflowing feelings. He could finally be with the man he loved, could finally get together with him and mend his relationship with Wanda. If anybody was thankful and grateful, it was him. He was a very happy man toady. A man whose family was finally complete.

 

(*)

Steve absolutely despised these new hipster places. He hated the complicated coffee orders, hated the cost of a simple black coffee and hated the people who thought they were better than him just because of their vegan eating and cups made of cow dung or some shit.

 

The only reason he still came here though, was also the people. Despite the small crowd of sanctimonious pricks, there was also a huge number of liberals in there. People who saw him as more than just an omega and who saw his talents as an artist. The alphas were great here, they didn’t push Steve around, served him coffee with a smile and wished him a good day instead of asking him if he was down to take a knot.

 

That is, the crowd on a normal day, today he absolutely hated this place and everybody here. Among the bare minimum people in the café, was one he had never thought he'd see again. One, with whom he had thought his time was done. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, smelling, feeling. But there was no mistaking it; the smell of metal and oil, the sight of brown hair and goatee and the feeling of a rock on Steve's heart.

 

He carefully approached the table in the corner, his coffee in hand and a nervous smile on his face. He could ignore the brunette and leave, could pretend he never saw him here, but his manners would never let him do that. His mom raised him better than to leave without greeting somebody he knew and Steve knows better than to go against his mother’s words.

 

“Tony?” he lightly tapped the beta’s shoulder and he turned around with a bored expression. But as soon as his eyes fell on Steve, he pushed his glasses off his face and jumped up to pull Steve into a hug.

 

“Steve Rogers, as I live and breathe. It’s been so long, Rapunzel, where you been?” he thumped Steve's back twice and let him go when Steve started coughing lightly. He gave the brunette a small smile and took the seat opposite him.

 

Tony sat back on his seat and eagerly took a sip of his scalding coffee, eyes never leaving Steve and smile firmly in place.

 

There was a time, Steve adored that smile.

 

“Decided to start working from home. Thought it’d be easier to do with all the schooling and stuff.” Steve shrugged and hoped Tony wouldn’t catch the lie in the statement. He had stopped going to office so that he could attend college, but then he had never started that either. He had just…not…

 

“You still learning? I thought you decided you didn’t want to attend college.” Tony raised an eyebrow in question and Steve grit his teeth together. He'd hoped Tony wouldn’t bring that up, had hoped Tony would forget they ever had that conversation, but he should’ve known the genius would remember that and would certainly bring it up.

 

“I've always wanted to go to college, Tony. What I said was that I didn’t want to do it on your dad’s money.”

 

“God Rogers! That pride is gonna kill you one day.” The brunette smiled kindly and Steve returned the smile, hiding the majority of it behind his coffee cup.

 

“Well I'm sure it can try.” He chuckled and the two sat together in companionable silence for a while.

To neither of their surprise it was Tony who broke the silence, his words and tone sending an arrow through Steve's mangled heart. He kept his face hidden behind his coffee cup and refused to look at Tony as he spoke.

 

“I’m sorry for what happened, Steve. I didn’t know. I never knew I was going to hurt you so much.” The beta’s tone and scent conveyed his genuine regret and sympathy, but Steve was in no mood to be at the receiving end of anybody’s pity. He pushed his coffee cup away from him on the table and looked at Tony with all sincerity he could muster.

 

“It was never your fault, Tony. I kept it a secret from you, I was the coward. You didn’t know what I was feeling, you only did what you felt was right.” He argued  gently and hoped the beta would leave it there. Wouldn’t start a whole discussion and dissection of Steve's feelings in a café, smack in the middle of Brooklyn.

 

But he knew Tony wouldn’t leave it there, it would keep coming up in the conversation. He hoped he had made the right decision then, had left without saying anything to Tony. It wouldn’t have been rude either, Tony had never known he was there to begin with. He could’ve left, they wouldn’t be having this conversation and he could’ve kept the broken parts of his heart to himself.

 

Now it was all just scattered in front of the man who broke it in the first place.

 

“Maybe I should’ve known. We were such close friends, I don’t know how I never noticed. I'm sorry, Steve, but please don’t stay away from the company because of me. Dad misses you, you know. He never found another to match your grit and determination.” He had hoped Tony wouldn’t play the dad card, wouldn’t bring Mr Stark into it, but he had and judging by the spark in his eyes he knew Tony knew he had hit Steve's weak spot. He grit his teeth together and fisted his hands under the table, trying extra hard to temper his scent to something resembling neutral and not straight up pissed.

 

In the event of his own father being an absolute asshole, Mr Stark had been the closest thing to a father to him. The man had taken Steve under his wing, offered a job to Steve despite his omega status and his weak health and had enabled Steve a chance to start a life of his own, away from his father. He had offered Steve money to complete his schooling and further offered him money to study art in NYU. He had always said Steve was the son he never had and both of them had had some great times playing cards in their free time. Mr Stark would often take time out of his schedule and come visit Steve in his office, bringing along some art he liked and offering Steve the work. He would then proceed to tell Steve that he also had a chance to become rich and famous one day and that he was better than all the others out there.

 

To say he missed Mr Stark too, would be an understatement.

 

“I didn’t stay away because of you, I had-have my own reasons. Tell Mr Stark that I'm sorry, but I will come to visit him, to thank him for all he's done for me, to thank him for still letting me keep the job.”

 

“He'd have to be an idiot to let you go. You're our best, Steve.” Tony replied immediately and some of Steve's temper cooled at the compliment. He mustered a real smile and thanked Tony sincerely.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Would you come back if I said I missed you too. The office is a dull space without you, Rapunzel, nobody gets my sense of humour.” He gave Steve a lopsided smile and Steve saw the man he had fallen hard and fast for. This was dangerous territory for him. Every time Tony had smiled at him like that, Steve had agreed to any thing he said. This was the smile that had gotten them arrested, this was the smile that had them sneaking out of the Stark Gala, this was the smile Steve had really, really adored.

 

“I'm afraid that ship has sailed, my friend. I'm sorry.” He replied sadly, his heart hurting inside his chest at the sight of Tony after all these days. He couldn’t believe what he was doing here, why he thought he should hurt himself all over, how he thought he could see Tony again and not go on a masochistic trip of hurting all over.

 

His scent was in dangerous territory too, almost wailing in hurt and Steve was having a hard time controlling it as Tony’s scent flew into sympathetic territory.

 

“No worries, as long as you are happy.” The beta replied quietly and went back to sipping his coffee, sympathetic eyes still on Steve. Steve averted his eyes from the brunette and scrambled to change the topic.

 

“I am. Are you?” and some part of him wants to hear a no, wants Tony to admit that he isn’t happy without Steve by his side, that he likes Steve too, the way Steve had liked him once. He wants Tony to weep for his love, tell Steve that he missed him for real, that he wanted Steve to not only come back to the office but also into his life.  

 

“Yeah. More than I've been in a very long time. Pepper’s amazing, Steve. She keeps me on my toes and she matches me snark to snark and sass to sass. It’s like dating a female, alpha version of myself, but with better management skills.” Tony’s face broke into a sappy grin and the colour drained from Steve's face. He had never heard Tony speak like that about anybody, had never seen him wear such a dopey smile on his face. The beta was floating on air at the moment and Steve's heart plunged in despair.

 

“And that narcissistic brain of yours loves it?” his tone didn’t come out as light as he thought it would, instead came out in a bitter whisper.

 

“So much. I- Oh shit! I'm so sorry, Steve. I should’ve never. I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to bring her up in front of you. I'm sorry…I-” Tony spluttered and Steve was desperate to wipe that pitying look of his faced. He waved a hand nonchalantly and looked at Tony with all the disinterest he could muster.

 

“Don’t worry about it, Tony. I'm over whatever feelings I had for you, it’s an old story now, I've moved on.”

 

“You have?” the beat questioned cautiously, his voice belaying genuine curiosity and mirth.

 

“Yup. I'm married now. Most handsome alpha you’ve ever seen. James.” And Steve's eyes widened at his own answer. He couldn’t do that to Bucky, couldn’t use him as a means to make Steve's ex crush jealous. Bucky wasn’t a prop in the drama that was Steve's life and he had to get the poor alpha out of this immediately.

 

“James? Married? Are you kidding me?” at Tony’s incredulous tone, all of Steve's previous plans flew out of the window. All he could think about was wiping that all knowing smirk of Tony’s face and proving him wrong once and for all.

 

“Why would I do that?”

 

“You do realise that you’ve got no ring on your finger and no mating bite, right? The basic things in a marriage?” Tony's tone was disbelieving and it caused something ugly to flare in Steve's gut. He raised an eyebrow in challenge as he scrambled for an answer to that question.  

 

“Well…the ring was a little big for me, so it’s gone for resizing. And as far as the bond mark is concerned, we’re waiting for my heat. I'm not a bite before marriage guy.” He scoffed and Tony turned bright red at his expression. He cleared his throat and waved  a hand in Steve's general direction.

 

“Oh, well, uh… good for you. You still living in that dump of an apartment?”

 

“Nope, we’re living in a house a little off the city. You should come visit sometime, bring Pepper along. My husband makes a mean lasagne.” Steve huffed in pride and pushed his lungs out a little at that. He was finally on the other side of this relationship, he wasn’t the one who was jealous and he was the one living the better life now. He signalled the barista for another coffee and watched shock filter through Tony's eyes.   

 

“I’d love to, today if possible. I've got a meeting with the board tomorrow and I'm not ready to go home yet and have father discuss it to death with me. Take me with you, I promise to be out of your hair before 11.” Steve's mouth fell open in shock. He wasn’t…he couldn’t, he'd given James no warning of this. Their agreement specified a day’s time and Steve  was playing with a mere hour or two right now. He fumbled for something to say and jumped on the first thing to cross his mind.

 

“Why not crash at Pepper’s?”

 

“Because my dad’s secretary is not going to understand my reluctance to go home. C’mon, Rapunzel, you're supposed to be smarter than that.” Tony smiled hauntingly at him and Steve knew his pride wouldn’t let him back down anymore. He brushed non existent lint of his shoulder and rolled his shoulders backwards.

 

“Okay, you can come. But, let me call my husband first and let him know. I can’t surprise him with the worst gift ever.” He made a pointing gesture towards his phone and turned towards Tony with a raised eyebrow, daring him to say something to that. Tony just smiled at him and pointed at his chest, poking lightly and pouting simultaneously.

 

“I'm hurt, Rogers, how dare you?”

 

Steve rolled his eyes and dialled Bucky's number. This was going to be a long night and he just hoped Tony didn’t annoy Bucky into murdering him.  

 

(*)

 

Bucky's ears rang from the constant ringing of the doorbell. Whoever was there at his door, was certainly in some kind of hurry to see Bucky or just an obnoxious asshole who Bucky was going to chew out. He placed the dishes he was washing back in the sink and washed his hands. He shook his hands out to dry them, before the fourth shrill ringing came through.

 

He ran across the hallway and threw open the door, ready to scream and abuse the person on the other side. But as soon as his eyes fell on his visitor, the words died on his tongue and he was in grave danger of swallowing the same. He blinked twice in an attempt to make the mirage disappear but he still stood right in front of Bucky.

 

Eyes red rimmed and watery, complexion pale but splotchy with red, cheeks wet and tear streaked, lips bitten red and wobbling dangerously.

 

He could barely speak and when he did, the words came out scratchy and clipped.

 

“Pietro? What are-”

 

“You love me, you’ve always loved me. I wasn’t wrong, I was never wrong.” The blonde fell into his arms, sobbing and weeping, his voice catching on every word, the sobs wracking through his chest and into Bucky's. The alpha wrapped his arms around the breaking beta, cooing soothingly into his ears and rubbing his back, the metal arm combing through his soft hair. 

 

“No you weren’t, sweetheart, you were never wrong. I love you, Pietro, I've always loved you.” He whispered in the blonde’s ears, fighting to keep his scent and voice calm, to not break alongside the beta. He couldn’t cry now, as much as the image of a sobbing Pietro hurt him, he couldn’t do the same. He had to stay strong, had to comfort the beta and his haywire alpha pheromones wouldn’t be able to do it.

 

“I was so upset,  so sad. I thought you were gonna be upset with me, that I’d destroyed whatever relation we had with each other. I thought you’d hate me.”

 

“I’m sorry, Piet, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you, I had a promise to keep, I'm so sorry. Please don’t be sad, not anymore, sweetheart. I'm never gonna let you hurt again.” He slowly walked them backwards till they stood inside the house, right in the doorway. He closed the door softly behind them and positioned Pietro’s head against the crook where his shoulder met his neck, letting the beta nose at his scent glands and draw comfort from it.

 

Pietro drew a deep breath, Bucky's calm scenting soothing his own. He kept quiet for a while, taking deep breath and nosing along Bucky's gland, scenting him in a way no one had done before.

 

Bucky drew a deep breath in return, Pietro's own scent and scenting proving almost too much to him. He could feel his resolve breaking, the primal need in him awakening and demanding him to throw Pietro on to the couch and have his way. He willed the feelings of arousal away and continued petting the upset beta in his arms.

 

“My own sister was against my happiness, she came between us. I- I can’t…why would she? How could she?” Pietro whispered after a while, his quiet tone still reverberating in Bucky's home and heart. He drew a deep breath again, drawing strength from their combined scents and tried explaining everything to the distraught beta. 

 

“She was scared, Pietro. She only did what any caring sister would do. I'm older to you by a lot of years, sweetheart. Six years is a lot and she was scared it’s going to come between us. She was afraid I would hurt you. She had her reasons for being sacred and you know that, Piet.”

 

“What did she tell you? What did she make you promise her?” Pietro asked and Bucky's eyes closed involuntarily.

 

He'd been dreading this question. He didn’t know if he should tell Pietro what had happened that day, the venom in the words Wanda had spewed at him, the disgust he had felt for himself. He knew Pietro's relationship with Wanda was probably already strained and given the quiet determination in Pietro's voice, he can guess that Wanda hasn’t said anything. He doesn’t want to be the one doing it either, he can’t damage their relationship for the sake of his own.

 

“She- uh…it doesn’t matter. You're here now and that’s all that matters. Please let’s not discuss this now, I'm finally getting a chance to hold you in my arms, I don’t want to waste another moment.”

 

Pietro moved out of his arms then and looked him straight in the eye. He couldn’t meet the blonde’s pleading expression and averted his eyes. Pietro took his face in his hands and turned him around to meet his gaze, blue eyes boring into grey, pleading eyes searching troubled ones.

 

“I need to know, Bucky. Because of her, we lost so much time. I need to know what she said, how she kept you away from me. Please, tell me this. Let’s not have anymore secrets between us. Please.”

Bucky was a lost cause the moment those eyes met his. He was already talking when the imploring tone reached him. He was crying before he could hear the plea in Pietro's words.

 

“She said that I was sick to want the things I wanted. She said that I was a monster, the worst scum on earth. She said I was taking advantage of you, of her and the vulnerable position you both were in. She asked me to stay away from you, to never look at you or think of you as anything other than a brother. And I tried, Piet, I tried every time. But you always came back, no matter how much I pushed you away, you found me when I didn’t want to be found and you loved me when I was afraid to do the same. Thank you, sweetheart, thank you so much for not giving up on me.”

 

He lifted his hands to wipe at his eyes and Pietro dropped his from his face. The blonde took a step back from him and dropped his hands to his side, his eyes tearing up again and eyes wide in shock.

 

“She said all that to you? She hurt you, Bucky. She…she said such…” Pietro started grasping for breath in between words, his voice coming in short, breathless puffs of air. Bucky moved forward and took him into his arms again, rubbing his back and soothingly whispering in his ear.

 

“Pietro, baby, please calm down. Please. Breathe with me, Pietro, c’mon breathe with me.”

 

Pietro did as he was told, taking deep breaths in sync with Bucky and trying to calm the beat of his heart to match the alpha’s. He buried his nose in Bucky's scent gland again and let the alpha’s soothing scent and voice calm him down before he could have a panic attack. Bucky held him through it all and kept whispering praises and encouragements in his ears, never letting him fall back into his headspace and keeping him grounded with a hand around his waist and other rubbing up and down his back. 

 

“Feeling better?” he asked after a long while, his voice gentle and soft, despite having gone a little hoarse after the prolonged silence.

 

“Yeah. I-” Pietro began again, but Bucky shushed him this time, a finger on his lip and face mere inches from the blonde’s.

 

“No. No, we’re not going to talk about that anymore. You're here and that is behind us. I don’t want to talk about the past anymore, sweetheart, I only wanna think about the present. The present where you're in my arms and every fibre of my being is asking me to kiss you. May I, sweetheart? May I kiss you?”

 

“Yes…yes, Bucky, please.” Pietro whispered softly and that was all the go ahead Bucky needed.

 

The moment their lips touched, a current passed through Bucky's spine. He wrapped both his arms around the beta and led him to the couch. They fell on to the couch in a heap, lips never leaving the other, arms touching, feeling and loving. Bare hands on bare skin, lips on neck, hands pulling closer and closer. Legs intertwined, bodies moving in a rhythm, hearts beating as one.

 

Somewhere in the dining room, Bucky's phone rang, once twice.

 

“Your phone…” Pietro whispered breathlessly, taking deep breaths in between fiery kisses. 

 

“Not important.” Bucky growled back and surged in to kiss the lips of the one he loved, phone be damned…

(*)

 

“Damnit, Bucky pick up, pick up.” Steve muttered under his breath as the third call also went to voicemail. He was getting frustrated and a little bit worried about Bucky's inability to answer the calls and it seemed to amuse Tony to no end.

 

“Darling husband not picking up?” he chuckled and Steve grit his teeth together at that sound. Once upon a time it used to make his insides tingle, but this was not that time.

 

“Shut up, Tony.”

 

He was really worried about Bucky, it wasn’t like him to not respond to calls. He chewed his lips nervously and contemplated making another call. He just hoped Bucky was at home and safe. He prayed silently and dialed the number again.

 

(*)

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're allowed to yell at me in the comments. You're also allowed to cry or tell me all about your grief. I'll reply to each and every one.


	10. Fake or Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Steve are on the way home...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve says "Love you, Bucky"...*squeals and screams*
> 
> Sorry about the late update but I think I'll make it up to you guys in this chapter...

**_15 th March 2020_ **

When he dials the same number for the fifth time, his hands shake minutely and his breath comes a little shallow. He's on the verge on crying, maybe panicking and none of them are a good sign. He's not the kind to cry easy, not the kind to cry at all, but the fear of losing a friend is too heavy for him to shake without a few tears. He takes a deep breath when the ringtone goes once, twice, thrice…and finally exhales when Bucky picks up during the fourth ring.

 

“Steve… are you okay? What happened?” the alpha sounds a little out of breath, a little frantic and scared and it does little to nothing to soothe Steve's nerves. He is aware of the distressed scent he is giving off and the worried looks Tony is shooting him, but he knows the brunette is smart enough not to say anything about it. He cradles the phone closer to himself, subconsciously trying to hold Bucky closer through his voice and exhales a long held breath at the voice he'd convinced himself he'd never hear again.

 

“Oh god Bucky! I've been calling you for the past fifteen minutes. Where have you been? Are you okay?” his voice is nothing but the tail end of the breath he's exhaling as he shoots tony a glance out of the corner of his eye and angles himself towards the window.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry about the scare, Steve. I was a little occupied.” Bucky replies a little sheepishly and Steve frowns at the answer. He wants to know what Bucky was up to, but decides to forgo the questioning, considering he was still in the car with a very inquisitive brunette who is notorious for his nosiness.

 

“You had me worried. Don’t do that again, asshole.” He muttered irritated and heard Tony snort from bedside him. He smiled at the sound, a sound he had adored for so long and looked out of the window wistfully.

 

Too long ago…too much time had passed. He didn’t have feelings for Tony anymore. It should’ve made him jubilant, ecstatic, but it made him sad, like he had lost something, something important…

 

“Aw, were you worried about me, Rogers. That’s cute.” Bucky's teasing reply came and Steve smiled at that, at the smile in Bucky's voice.

 

He had been worried, more worried than he had any right to be for a guy he had known all of seven days. He'd already imagined the worst things in his head and he had been mere minutes away from panicking. Steve's past had taught him that if somebody was not replying, chances were they were either hospitalised again or deeply injured. He couldn’t even imagine that, didn’t want to. But the fear he felt, the biting, crippling fear…he didn’t want to think about it, not now, not ever…

 

He'd think about it later. In the comfort of darkness and the quiet of the night.

 

“Shut up. You're the worst, my god!”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm the worst, a nightmare, a heathen who doesn’t drink coffee, I've heard it all, Steve, except the reason I have five missed calls on my phone.”

 

“Oh yeah. Uhm...listen, a friend of mine is coming over and we uh…” he began but found himself unable to complete the sentence. He paused for a while, trying to find the words in his head, but nothing he came up with could get his dilemma across tactfully and explain to Bucky that he was expected to play Steve's husband without the blonde outright saying so.

 

“Coming over when? Should I make my killer lasagne again?” Bucky questioned and Steve could already hear him walking, opening and closing kitchen cabinets. He sighed softly and chanced a glance at Tony again. The beta appeared to be concentrating on the road ahead but Steve knew he was intently listening to their conversation.

 

“Coming over right now. Bucky, we…” he paused again, the words stuck at the back of his throat and unable to stumble out. He gritted his teeth in annoyance and on the opposite side he heard Bucky close the kitchen cabinet, his tone a little impatient this time. 

 

“We, what, Steve? Are you guys coming together?”

 

“Yes, honey, we’re just five minutes away. Think you can manage?” he asked quietly and hoped Bucky would pick up on what he meant. He silently prayed to the few Gods he knew and held his breath while Bucky kept his silence for a few seconds.

 

“Oh…so it’s like that. Got it, sweet cheeks. Best fake- real husband at your service.” He exhaled shakily and thanked all the gods who had come to his rescue. He smiled at the horrible nickname the brunette had given him and chuckled at how well he had taken to Steve's impromptu request.

 

“Jesus Christ you're actually the worst.” He replied with no heat behind his words and heard Bucky laugh softly at his accusation.

 

“Now, now, plum pudding, that’s no way to talk to your husband. You're hurting his poor heart.”

 

“Aww, my custard apple, I didn’t mean to do that. I'm sorry, devilled eggs.” He retaliated and was pleased with Bucky's answering coughing fit. He smiled to himself while Bucky coughed out his indignation and puffed his chest out minutely when he heard Bucky whine.

 

“Aww, man, that’s bad. You win, Rogers, but this is not over. You said five minutes right? Think you can stall them for a few more minutes?” the brunette questioned and Steve immediately looked around to gauge their estimated time of arrival. Spotting the T-junction five minutes away from Bucky's home, he made a quick decision.

 

“I can pick up food on the way. So around twenty five minutes then. Okay?” he questioned softly and directed Tony towards the little Chinese restaurant he knew was at the end of the road to the right. Tony huffed in annoyance but complied and Steve once again thanked whatever lucky stars were finally aligning in his favour.

 

“Perfect, little cinnamon roll. See you then.” Bucky replied with a smile in his voice and Steve decided to let the nickname slide for this time. He did however smile at the stupidity of it and he was sure Bucky picked it up from his voice when he replied.

 

“Bye, Buck.”

 

Bucky hangs up and Steve chances another glance at the brunette beside him. He knows his conversation with Bucky was not the biggest proof of their relationship and save for the first nickname, all they have used are funny names, so he's not sure Tony is buying his bullshit. The brunette was smart and Steve did not want to mess this up and prove himself to be a bigger loser than he seemed when he was pining after Tony, a loser who had to create a fake relationship.

 

He thought for a moment and before lowering the phone, whispered softly enough for it to seem like a lover’s secret. 

 

“Love you too, Buck. Bye.” He then lowers the phone and tucks it away in his jeans, turning all the way to look out the window. It’s the most he can do at the moment and he hopes Bucky puts up a better show at home.

 

(*)

 

Steve enters the house with a thundering heart and a very eager Tony at his heel. Bucky opens the door with a smile, dressed casually in a pair of black jeans and a white t-shirt, he looks absolutely gorgeous and Steve has to agree with Tony when the brunette whistles softly at the sight of his husband.

 

“Hey, sweetheart, welcome home. Did you have a good day?” Bucky questions softly as he enters and leans down a little to brush his nose against his. Steve's breath stutters for a minute at the proximity of the alpha and his scent and has to clear his throat twice to get his voice back.

 

“Yeah. I brought food and a friend.” He gestures towards Tony who stands grinning to his side and watches nervously as Bucky moves to shake Tony’s hand.

 

“Ah, two Fs out of my favourite three, if you know what I mean.” The alpha winks salaciously at Steve and turns to Tony with a friendly grin. Steve's heart thunders in his chest at the action and he wills himself to calm down before he blows their poorly thought out plan and outs himself. He watches with a small and strained smile as Tony accepts the handshake and bends forward conspiringly, immediately lowering his volume as if to share a secret.

 

“Don’t I know what you mean. I'm Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.” He introduces himself and a spark of recognition comes alive in Bucky's eyes. He shakes Tony’s hand enthusiastically and points towards himself.

 

“James Barnes. Sergeant, veteran, VA volunteer and Steve's husband.”

 

“You sure husband’s supposed to be up there?” Tony questions playfully and Bucky’s face becomes serious for a few seconds. Steve moves forward to intervene but the brunette regains his smile back and chuckles softly.

 

“Nothing else deserves to be.” He replies, no mirth in his voice and no lack of seriousness on his face. Tony looks at him for moment, eyes calculating and sharp and then let out a small laugh at whatever he sees in them.

 

“Wow, Rogers, bagged a good one, huh? Where can I find one?” he patted Steve's back and gave Bucky another once over, more playful than anything, while Steve revelled in the beautiful blush that bloomed on Bucky's face.

 

“In your dad’s office, dressed in a pencil skirt and killer heels.” He remarked to Tony and smiled in satisfaction when Tony laughed and walked inside after giving him another pat on his back and a mock salute to Bucky.

 

“Good one, Rogers, always a tough one to beat.”

 

“Come in, Tony. Make yourself at home.”

 

“Thanks, Buckaroo. I'm going to call you Buckaroo because Steve called you Bucky.” He states to Bucky as he walks by and Bucky subtly raises an eyebrow at Steve. The omega shrugs in defeat and Bucky smiles softly at him. He then turns towards Tony, arms crossed across his chest and mouth pursued.

 

“Steve's my husband and you are…” he deliberately lets his sentence hang in the air and Steve starts laughing at the absolutely priceless expression on Tony’s face. Tony’s the biggest smartass Steve's ever seen but Bucky’s remark leaves him silent, an achievement all in itself. Tony turns to see him laughing and then turns back to Bucky with an impressed smile.

 

“My god! You guys are a match made in heaven. As much as I love your argument, no dice, Buckaroo. You're just gonna have to deal.”

 

“As much as I love seeing Tony stunned, I'm going to have to steal Bucky for a second. Think you’re gonna be okay by yourself and not break anything?” Steve asks with a small smile and gestures for Bucky to follow him. Bucky smiles at Tony’s mock-insulted expression and comes to stand next to Steve.

 

“Scout’s honour.” Tony promises and Steve gives him his most unimpressed look.

 

“You were not a scout.”

 

“But I'm as honourable as one.” The brunette answers and Steve decides to leave him be in the drawing room while he discusses important things with his (fake) husband.

 

(*)

 

As soon as they enter Steve's bedroom, the blonde turns to Bucky with a beaming smile and grateful eyes. He clasps the brunettes forearms in his hand and shakes them a little in his excitement.

 

“Thank you so much, Buck. You saved my ass.” He exclaims excitedly and Bucky laughs at the pure enthusiasm in his voice. He grips Steve's hands back and shakes him a little, mimicking his action from before, before dropping it and shrugging lightly.

 

“No problem, honey bunches, it is a pleasure.” He exclaims in a high voice which is nothing but a poor imitation of Steve's voice and Steve gives him a playful shove in the ribs.

 

“I'm gonna be hearing about this every day, aren’t I?” Steve asks exasperatedly and takes a step back from the brunette, instead falling on his bed and starts removing his shoes.

 

“You’re the one who started it. I can stop if you want.” Bucky offered and sat at the end of his bed, looking around the room at Steve's desk and pausing at the photo of his ma and him on the bedside table.

 

“Nah. It’s okay.” _I like it._ He thinks but doesn’t say. “Why does the house smell like lemon room freshener?” he asks in an attempt to change the subject and is instantly intrigued to see Bucky's cheeks turn red. He moves a little closer the blushing brunette and raises an eyebrow in question.

 

“Uhm… so remember Pietro? Well Pietro and I are going out now.” The brunette whispers and Steve's entire world stops spinning for a while. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, but no words come out. He eventually stops trying and takes a deep breath, holds it and then tries again.

 

“What? I thought you…he was so upset that day. What happened?”

 

“I changed my mind. He just refused to leave my head and slowly wormed his way into my heart.” Bucky rushes out and Steve understands a touchy topic when he hears one. He wants to know more, needs to, but he keeps his curiosity under wraps and instead tries to shrug the topic out of the way.

 

“Oh, poetic.” He deadpans and it gets a sigh out of the alpha. He kicks off his shoes and is starting on his socks when Bucky speaks again.

 

“Shut it, Rogers and tell me why the billionaire, who is a friend of yours and clearly close because he is the one who suggested your name to his father, thinks we are madly in love spouses?”

 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” he grips back immediately and gets up from the bed to put his socks in the laundry basket. He doesn’t get till there before Bucky's voice calls him back or rather calls him out.

 

“Ah, but you have to. It affects the both of us and you know it.” The brunette counters.

 

Steve thinks back to how Bucky avoided discussing Pietro, how he didn’t give a believable reason for their sudden relationship and is overcome by a desire to point out the hypocrisy of Bucky's statement. But he doesn’t. Bucky's doing so much for him today. On a day he got a boyfriend, he's here playing pretend with Steve instead of going on a date or hanging out with said boyfriend. Bucky let him come into his house, gave him a home, gave him a friendship he sorely needed and has been nothing but sweet and supportive all the time he has known him. He doesn’t want to make Bucky feel like an asshole for asking, so he doesn’t.

 

The fact that he also desperately wants to share, just to ease one burden off himself, doesn’t help the matter in the slightest. 

 

“I used to really like Tony, like almost falling in love sort of way, but I never told him. Everybody in the office knew and thought we were actually together, considering how close we were. But one day, he came in and announced that he and Pepper, that’s his dad’s secretary, were officially dating. Instead of clapping and applauding they all turned to look at me, some concerned, some shocked, some snickering. I couldn’t take their looks and I bolted out of there. It was somewhere between the stunned silence and bolting that Tony figured out the truth.”

 

He doesn’t mention coming home to a message from his father that his mother was on her deathbed. Doesn’t mention the fact that after two more abortions after Steve, at the age that she was at, Sarah had become too weak to last anymore. Doesn’t mention the fact that the doctor had told him to start preparing for his mother’s funeral. Doesn’t mention the fact that he took time off from the office to tend to his mother and to make sure he was there for her last breath.

 

It’s God’s grace that she made it through, but Steve, afraid to leave her after that, had never gone back to the office. But now, married to a stranger, he's left his mom alone again, but safe, boldened by his father’s promise…

 

 “I sent in an application to work from home then to avoid humiliation and haven’t been to the office yet. That was about a year and a half back and I… I just didn’t want to admit in front of him that I was still single, I guess.” _And unlovable, he doesn’t add,_ “I'm sorry for dragging you into this, Buck, I didn’t know he would tag home.”

 

Bucky hears his story out with utmost patience, before moving to sit beside him and put a comforting arm on  his shoulder. He presses gently, almost a massage and starts talking only when Steve's come down from the emotional pain of talking about his past.

 

“Don’t apologise, Steve. Never apologise for something like this. I'm happy to play pretend with you. You're an amazing husband and friend, and I'm glad to have had the pleasure of knowing both sides of you. You're not alone, nor single. I've known you less than a week and I might be a little obsessed with you. This friendship means a lot to me, Steve, and so do you. You're not alone, you've no reason to be ashamed. You just haven’t found the right person. But don’t worry, apple pie, your darling husband is here and he’ll help you.” He says and loops the arm around Steve to give him a half hug. Steve basks in the hug for a moment before pulling back and looking Bucky in the eye, his shoulders sagging a bit from some unknown relief sharing his story brought him.

 

“You weren’t gonna force the story out of me, were you?” he questions softly, fully knowing the answer now that he looks into Bucky's kind, grey eyes.

 

“Nah. But you looked like you wanted to talk, just needed a little push. That’s what I did.”

 

“You're a great husband, tarts.” He adds the nickname at the end only to cover up the raw emotion those words bring up in him. Bucky is a great husband and Pietro is gonna be a lucky guy someday. Steve doesn’t know what his future holds for him anymore, where he’ll go after his divorce, how much he’ll miss Bucky and his home and what will happen to his mother. There are too many things to be considered and he knows now is not the time for it, not with Tony downstairs and Bucky beside him, offering comfort. So he deflects, uses something he knows will catch Bucky’s attention and draw the conversation away from their lives for a while. 

 

“Tarts? That’s just lazy man.”

 

“I don’t know, it suits you.” Steve shrugs and Bucky shoves him lightly, full lips pulled in to  pout and shoulders drooping in mock-indignation.

 

“Whatever. Let’s go before he thinks we’re busy getting busy.” He turns away from Steve childishly and Steve can’t help the bark of laughter that leaves him.

 

“You're. The. Worst.” He says in between bouts of laughter and stops to see Bucky looking at him with a strange look in his eyes, almost a challenge or a nefarious idea.

 

 “I know, chocolate ice cream. But you can’t exchange me now, you're stuck with me.”

 

He doesn’t say how he wouldn’t exchange Bucky for anybody else, because he's starting to realise the alpha is perfect. He doesn’t say how that’s exactly what he is afraid of, of having to lose Bucky in an exchange with Pietro. He doesn’t say how attached he is not only to the idea of a home, but a home with Bucky.

(*)

 

Dinner is nothing special, just the Chinese food Steve had bought from the restaurant and a chicken roast Bucky had already prepared for dinner. He kept glancing at the alpha and beta at the table and how they both seemed too much at ease in the silence. Steve for his part was getting fidgety and anxious and he just wanted to break the silence somehow.

 

He was beyond glad when Tony put down his fork and looked at the two of them, question ready at the tip of his tongue.

 

“So, how long have you guys been together for?”

 

And just like that Steve's incessant need for words died. They had not rehearsed this, had not even thought about the lies that they had to tell. H willed his tied tongue to say something, anything, but the words froze inside his throat. He stared blankly at his friend and dropped his fork on to the plate with a very noisy clutter.  

 

“Uhh…” he began and noticed Bucky looking at him from the corner of his eye. He gulped after a small pause and scrambled his brain to find his voice again.

 

“About an year and two months. Got married six days ago.” Bucky answers fluently and sits back in his chair after closing his plate and dropping the napkin on to the table. He pulls Steve's chair closer to his own and throws an arm around the back of his chair. Steve turned to look at him gratefully and Bucky gave the back of his neck a reassuring squeeze, the softest smile grazing his lips.

 

“You got married after just an year of dating? Don’t you think that’s too soon?” Tony questioned incredulously and Steve almost groaned out loud at inquisitiveness of the brunette. He knows why Bucky said a year and some, given his history with Tony, but that doesn’t mean it’ll make this lie any more believable! Tony knows Steve, knows his inhibitions, his concerns, knows Steve will never get married to someone he has only known for a year. He fumbles for an answer again but is saved by Bucky again, his voice velvety smooth and too clear to be a lie.  

 

“Not if you know you’ve found the right person. Steve's so amazing and I didn’t want to give anyone anymore time to figure that out and steal him. So I put a ring on it.” he shrugged and smirked when Tony grinned at his answer, as Steve blushed fifty shades of red.

 

Steve sighed inwardly and thanked heavens for the silence that returned at the table. But it didn’t last any longer than two minutes before Tony spoke again, his voice suddenly a lot more genuine curiosity than nosy inquisitiveness.

 

“How did you know he’s the right person?”

 

“I called him a silly nickname and he retaliated with a worse one. He doesn’t take bullshit from anyone including me and he’s just different. He's got a fight in his eyes that I really like. You just know it when you see them, I guess.” Bucky answered again and Steve is hit by the realisation that this is exactly what happened during the phone call. Though Steve was the one to start with the nicknames, Bucky was the one who made it a joke and Steve had retaliated immediately. He smiles at the memory of that interaction and lifts his hand to intertwine it with the one at the back of his chair. If he can’t play along with words, his actions are gonna speak for him.  Bucky turns to look at him and gives him a small smile that he immediately returns before they both turn towards Tony again.

 

“Who proposed?”

 

“He did. Gave a sappy speech and all. It was super cheesy.” Bucky answers pointing to Steve with his free hand and nudges his shoulder with his own playfully. The blonde chuckles along with the brunette and turns to see Tony looking at them almost sceptically but still hopefully.

 

“The alpha wasn’t the one to propose?” he questions after a small pause and indignation rises in Steve's being. He's been at the beck and call of sexism and gender biases his whole life. He's been discriminated against for being an omega by his father, his school, his work places and his colleagues. But he never thought it would happen at the hands of a friend, that too somebody who would understand what it is like to be pushed over because you are not an alpha.

 

Before he can reply, Bucky's free hand comes to intertwine with his own and the alpha gives him a reassuring squeeze. From their proximity, Steve can smell the soothing scent of Bucky's scent and he grumpily calms to let the brunette speak. 

 

“We did not go into this relationship with the alpha-omega stereotypes. We are not an alpha and an omega when we are together, we’re just Steve and Bucky. I'm glad he proposed because I couldn’t have done it any better.”

 

“I…Do you think Pepper’s the right person for me?” Tony questions and suddenly all of Tony’s questions and curiosity make sense. Steve jerks out of his seat at the realisation, barely sitting on the edge of the seat in his excitement and lets go of Bucky’s hands in the process.

 

“Tony…are you…uh…” he asks breathlessly but Tony finishes his sentence before he can.

 

“Proposing? Yeah. Been thinking about it for weeks and I don’t know. I think she’s the one for me, Steve. She doesn’t take my bullshit even though I technically own the company, she’s competent and smart, brilliant at what she does and she can match me wit to wit. She sees…she sees me…you know what I mean?”

 

“Yeah. She sees Tony, the nerd, and not Tony stark, the billionaire.” Bucky replies immediately and nods along with what Tony says. Steve spares a moment to look at Bucky's face, the absolute understanding written in his eyes and turns back to look at Tony again.

 

 He thinks back to what little he has seen of the two of them together and agrees with what Tony said. Pepper has never once treated Tony like the boss’ son or even as a billionaire himself. She treats him like an equal, reprimanding when necessary and complimenting when required, never once pushing for too much or settling for too less. Though he doesn’t believe in the concept, he knows she’s the Ying to Tony’s Yang.

 

And he's happy for them, really happy. Whatever he had for Tony is long gone and he can finally admit with a smile that Pepper is the best thing that could’ve happened to Tony.

 

“Yeah. Exactly.” Tony agrees.

 

“Seems like she’s the one for you. Go for it, Tony, she makes you happy.” Steve adds and Tony turns to him with a beaming smile. The room overflows with the scent of three happy people and the sweetness sticks to Steve's face and heart. He extends his arm for Tony to shake and leans across the table to give him a small hug. Tony thumps his back and sits down with a chuckle, eyes too glossy to be dry and smile wobbly.

 

“She does. What about you, Buckaroo? You think I should go down on my knees for her?” he asks with a hoarse sound and Bucky leans forward in his chair. He drops his voice to a whisper and leans in almost conspiratorially, an imitation of Tony’s earlier gesture and smiles at him.   

 

“From what I heard, you're already on your knees, Tony, only missing the ring.” Tony chuckles at that and Steve can’t help but join in at his infectious laughter. Bucky joins in after a while and together the three of them spend a little more time indulging in their merriment.

 

“Thank you, guys.” Tony says after he calms down for a bit .“I'm going to do it tomorrow. No more chickening out.” He states with conviction, his scent flaring with the fire in his eyes.

 

“That’s the spirit.” Bucky cheers.

 

“Go for it, Tony.” Steve gives him twin thumbs up.

 

“You guys are invited to my wedding. If I have my way, it’s gonna be soon, so be prepared.” Tony warns and wags a finger at them threateningly. Steve laughs and nods at the brunette, while Bucky stands to wrap his arms around the beta.

 

“There's nowhere else we’d like to be.” He thumps Tony’s back and steps back to stand near Steve, face still split open in a grin and one arm around Steve's back. Steve leans into the touch and turns his head to whisper in Bucky's ear.

 

 

“Thank you. For all that…”

 

“You're welcome, Steve. Anytime. I promised you I’d be the best fake-real husband right? Gotta live up to my word.” The alpha whispers back and Steve can feel rather than hear the smile in his voice. He huffs a laugh under his breath and retorts cheekily, his voice a mere puff of breath at the alpha’s ear.

 

“You're doing splendidly. The best.”

 

“Wow you guys really can’t stay away from each other, huh? Cute and gross.” Tony breaks the moment between them and Steve annoyingly turns to glare at the brunette.

 

“Shut up, Tony.”  Bucky laughs from beside him along with Tony and Steve knows it’s one of the best moments of his life: his friends, a stomach full of food, laughter in the air and a friendly hand at his back.

 

(*)

 

They saw Tony off an hour after dinner. He hugged them goodbye, a very non-Tony thing to do, and then exchanged some words with Bucky that sounded awfully similar to _you’re good for him. Take care of him._ After the beta’s departure Steve and Bucky retired to the kitchen.

 

The alpha washed the dishes while Steve dried them. The two worked in companionable silence but Steve could not silence the voices in his head. He knew it had been too good to last, nothing good in his life ever lasted long, but he had started hoping this would. He glanced sideways at Bucky multiple times, his smiling features and dancing eyes and couldn’t help the feeling of lose. He was losing the best guy he had ever met in his life, the guy who gave him a home when he needed it, a friend when he had no one, confidence when he was immersed in self-pity and  a companionship when his shadow had been his only comrade.

 

He was still staring at Bucky when the brunette turned his head and met his gaze. He held the brunette’s gaze for a while before shaking his head and dropping his eyes.

 

“I-I’m happy for you, Bucky. Pietro is a good guy and you seem happy too.” he finished wiping the plate and put it down, already reaching for another and starting the act all over again.

 

“Thank you. I do feel quite content, like life’s complete.” Bucky replied and Steve didn’t need to turn to see the smile he was sporting. He sighed deeply and let the plate almost fall from his hands as he closed his eyes in utter exhaustion.

 

“That’s good. I'm happy for you.”

 

“You already said that…Steve? What’s wrong?” strong hands took the plate from his fingers and turned him around so he was leaning on the counter. Steve placed his shaking hands on to the granite surface and lifted his eyes to look into worried grey ones.

 

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.” He shrugged but he knew the lie had fallen flat. He moved to turn around but the alpha’s hands landed next to his on the counter, boxing him in and not giving him any place to turn away to. He lifted his head angrily, his entire body shaking in an attempt to hold in the tears he's been fighting for some time now and swats at the hands blocking his way. Bucky removes his hands, but doesn’t move away from Steve, instead looking at him in a concerned manner and turning anxious grey eyes at him.

 

“Okay…Just…I'm always there for you, okay? Anytime you wanna talk to me about something, I'm always there.” He whispers softly and turns on his heel, moving away from  Steve and taking a part of his heart with him.

 

In that moment the young omega can’t help but think of how it’s like this that they were always suppose to end. Barely a week in, barely some friendly words spoken, barely a few meals had together and their friendship was already over. Bucky was walking away, leaving Steve in the softly lit kitchen that he can’t call his own and giving him space that he can’t bear to have from Bucky now. He knows this is the end, that Bucky will ask him to leave and the thought pains him, hurts in ways his father’s disregard or Tony’s rejection never did.

 

He can’t let Bucky leave with that last word.

 

“Hmm…Not for long.”

 

“What do you mean?” the alpha turns slowly and Steve can see the gears turn in his head. He lifts his head defiantly and stared down the tall alpha, hands fisted at his sides and scent screaming at the alpha in pain and abandonment.

 

“Now…now that you’ve found Pietro, guess we’re getting that divorce, huh?” he wants to spit the words out but at the thought of that divorce drains the fight out of him. All that comes out is a pathetic whisper, a plea to be misheard, a plea to be wrong.

 

“Steve…Steve look at me.” Bucky strides towards him and lifts his head with a palm under his chin. Steve refuses to meet the understanding, worried gaze of the alpha, keeping his eyes down and body in one tight line. “We’re…I…I was a mess before you came. I was lonely and this house was too big. I know you were the same, lonely and living in a too big apartment. You’ve made this place home, Stevie. You came in that door and brought something with you, something that makes this house a home and soothes an ache in me I didn’t know I had. The circumstance of our meeting was less than ideal, but that circumstance gave me a very good friend and I'm not gonna turn my back on him just because somebody else came through. Just because Pietro came to my life, doesn’t mean you have to leave. You're my friend, Stevie, and I'm pleading with you to stay. Please stay, unless you want to leave. Do you?” he pauses, then continues in a too soft whisper, “Do you want the divorce?”

 

And Steve's entire world comes crashing down. He can’t believe what he's hearing, the plea in Bucky’s voice, the request to not leave, to not request the end of their friendship, to not put an expiry date to their companionship. Steve lifts his teary eyes to meet Bucky's, sees friendly eyes meet his own and falls into Bucky's body, just trusting the brunette to catch him, to comfort him.

 

And he does. The alpha holds Steve close, keeps his hands wrapped around Steve midriff and cocoons him in the safety he didn’t know he needed. Steve talks a shaky breath, leaves it in a breathy sigh and wraps his own bony hands around the brunette.

 

When he talks, his voice is nothing above a whisper.

 

“No…this is home to me too. It happened too quickly, too suddenly, but it happened. This became home.” _You became home._ “I don’t want to leave.”

 

  
“Then stay.” The reply comes promptly and Steve shakes his head immediately.

 

“But the agreement, Buck? We agreed to separate…” he argues uselessly, hardly wanting Bucky to see the logic in his words, to acquiesce with him. 

 

“Haven’t we already broken almost all other things? You didn’t warn me a day in advance that Tony was coming and I didn’t tell you Natasha and Clint were going to crash at midnight. I think the agreement’s been long broken.” The alpha counters immediately and Steve finds himself nodding along, an immense relief washing over him. He knows he needs to step out of the embrace but he decides to take another moment to himself. He breathes deeply and starts when the soft smell of earth, fresh and green, hits his nose. Pietro.

 

Steve immediately takes a step back from the alpha, tries to stem the selfish part of his brain that wants to crawl back into the embrace and looks Bucky in the eye as he questions. 

 

“What happens when Pietro stays the night?”

 

“He stays in my room, not the guest room.” Bucky answers immediately and Steve shakes his head in frustration. He takes a step forward and gestures wildly with his hands.

 

“No. you know, when you guys…”

 

“We what?” the brunette questions again and Steve pulls his hair out of frustration, spinning in an aborted circle and stopping with his back to Bucky.

 

“You know…you want to…”

 

“I've no idea what you're talking about.” This time he hears the smile in Bucky’s voice and spins to face him with a threatening finger and a small smile on his face. He wags the finger at the brunette disapprovingly and watches a dazzling smile break out on the alpha’s face.

 

“Oh you fucking asshole. I'm talking about when you wanna have sex. Isn’t it gonna be weird with me in the house. You guys will probably need your space.”

 

“Did you just call me, an alpha, a fucking asshole? The insolence!” Bucky's splays a hand on his chest and exclaims frantically but Steve ignores his theatrics in favour of his answer, he raises an unamused eyebrow at the brunette and watches him slowly deflate back to seriousness.

 

“That’s simple. Pietro and I are not gonna have sex.” Bucky answers simply and Steve's mind runs a hundred miles an hour. He takes a step towards Bucky, his eyes wide and scent confused and the brunette just watches him with a blank face.

 

“What? Why? Is it-”

 

“It is because I'm a married man, Stevie and I'm not gonna disrespect my husband like that.” He states calmly and side steps Steve to put the dishes away. Steve stands frozen in his place for a moment before finally turning around and addressing the bomb Bucky just dropped on him.

 

“Buck…you don’t have to. I…I don’t mind.” He begins but Bucky interrupts him with a reassuring hand on his shoulder and  a comforting smile.

 

“No, Steve. That’d be a pretty shitty thing to do. I'm already committing adultery and I can’t disrespect you more or take advantage like that. You deserve better than your husband, fake or real, full on mounting somebody while being married to you. You're gonna be treated with respect.”

 

  
“Thank you. That’s…”

 

“No need to thank me, Stevie, especially after I fucked up. I kissed Pietro while also being married, that’s a shitty thing to do as well.”

 

“It’s okay, Buck. We already spoke about them earlier. We’re both open to finding others and now that you’ve found somebody there’s no reason you shouldn’t be affectionate with them. I really don’t mind.” H tries again but he knows from the look on Bucky's face that this conversation is over. He’s not gonna take Steve's objections into consideration and Steve's beyond relieved about it too.

 

“Thank you, you're the best. Where else am I gonna find a husband I can manipulate into watching Grace and Frankie with me?” the brunette questions with  a mischievous smile and Steve rises to the challenge immediately.

 

“I'm the one manipulating you. I pretended not to like it, so you decided to watch it to spite me. Dummy.” He laughs at Bucky and barely dodges the drying rag he throws at him.

 

“Steve Rogers, you diabolical piece of shit! I ought to divorce your ass.” He screams at him and Steve takes off running out of the kitchen with a smile. He stops at the couch, sticks his tongue out at the brunette and falls on to the couch.

 

“As if you could. You enjoy my company too much.”

 

“Yeah, I probably do.” The brunette agrees and takes a seat next to Steve, their task of doing the dishes forgotten mid-way through as they both sit and contemplate the events of a too long day. It’s quiet for a very long time before Steve speaks up.

 

“Me too.”

 

Bucky smiles at him and gets up to switch on the TV and queue up Netflix on it. They both settle down to watch Grace and Frankie and it’s midway through the episode that something comes to Steve’s mind.

 

 “So…Stevie, huh?” he asks with a smirk and elbows the brunette sitting beside him.

 

“Buck, huh?” Bucky questions back in the same tone and they both smile at each other for a while before Steve asks quietly.

 

“You mind?”

 

“Nah. Do you?”

 

“Nope, as long as Sam doesn’t hear about it. He’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

 

“Deal.” They shake hands on it and settle down to watch the rest of the episode. It’s not as happening as their day had been but it’s not boring either and Steve can’t help but think that this is how he wants to spend every night of his life.

(*)

 

 

 

 

 

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last update for the next two weeks. I'm sorry but exams :(  
> Wish me all the best...


	11. A New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve has too many conversations in one day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must warn you guys, it is a very short chapter and is pretty much only a filler. I just wanted to set the ball rolling on my writing because after a two week break and Endgame, my writing and I are all over the place. Enjoy...

**_20 th March 2020_ **

 

"You guys are where?" Steve did a spit take without meaning to and coughed when it went down the wrong pipe. He put down his paintbrush and frowned at the stark black line going down his beautiful skyline. He wiped his hands on a rag and took over the phone that was cradled between his shoulder and neck.

_"Grand Canyon, Steve. your dad thought it would be romantic to visit this stretch of nothingness. He's hopeless at romance."_ He smiled at his mother's exasperated tone and tried to picture his parents at the monument. He almost laughed at the image of a grumpy Sarah and an over the top Joseph. Reining in his laughter at the last second, he tried to keep his tone serious as he spoke to his mom.

 

"Uh, first of all, that's not true. The Grand Canyon is a beautiful treasure that we ought to, well, treasure. Second, any man who takes you to the Grand Canyon is a hopeless romantic and not hopeless at romance."

 

He sat down as he said so, past images of his father's cruelty flashing in his head as he tried hard to forget them and imagine this romantic version of a man, he had never thought had a kind bone in his body. It was painful to think that just by being born the way he did; Steve had robbed his mother all this happiness.

 

 

_"Okay, I'll make sure he knows his son approves of his romantic ideas while his mom drinks her 8th bottle of water in half those hours."_

 

"C' mon Rogers, you're gonna be okay. I'm starting to see why Buck says I have a dramatic streak in my blood. I get it from you." Steve teased his mother and could almost see her smile through the phone. He laughed softly as she did the same and switched the phone to his other hand. He walked around his room, collecting all the clothes strewn around the floor and putting it in his overflowing laundry basket.

 

He frowned when his mother was quiet for a while and almost sighed out loud when she spoke, her voice soft and tone cautiously hopeful.

 

_"Buck, huh? James to Bucky to Buck. Is there something you should be telling your mother, Steven? Something your mommy needs to know?"_

 

He felt bad about the hope in her voice, the optimism that she exuded. He didn't like disappointing his mother, did not enjoy hearing her voice sink with it. He shrugged casually and replied nonchalantly.

 

"Nope. Just friends."

 

_"Sure, if you say so. I'm just glad you're happy, Stevie. I was really worried about you, honey. Especially after that night…you were so scared."_

 

"I know, ma. But you were right. Bucky's amazing, a really good guy."

 

_"I'm glad you're happy, Stevie. God knows you deserve that after all these years with your father."_ Her voice dropped in regret and Steve felt the pain she felt. he couldn't bear the thought of her being upset on her trip to Arizona, of her ever being upset. He hadn't meant to steer the conversation in this direction at all, but as always had inadvertently caused her pain and guilt as always.

 

"I…I'm glad you're happy too, ma. I'm surprised dad changed the way he did, but I'm glad he did. You deserve every happiness in the world, ma, each and everyone."

 

_"Not at the cost of your life, honey."_ she berated softly, voice resigned and quiet as it hurt Steve in the worst way possible. He was tired of this conversation, of the words and apologies traversing between them with the occasional rephrasing.

 

She hasn't cost him anything, much less his life. She hadn't asked him to do what he did neither had she asked him to accept his father's proposal. Whatever Steve had done to get to this stage in his life, married to a man whom he doesn't love and who doesn't love him, he has done it to himself.

 

And even that hasn't cost him his life. In fact, being married to Bucky is the most he has lived in his life.

 

"It didn't cost me anything, ma. Bucky's great, I'm happy and you're happy. Isn't it a win-win for everybody? Don't feel guilty about me and enjoy your time with dad. I'm dying to visit but the two of you are out seeing the world apparently."

 

In the past ten-fifteen days, Sarah and Joseph had been on more dates than Steve had ever been on. They'd spent their nights out on the beach and days wrapped around each other. His mother could not stop gushing about it every time he had called. As happy as he was to hear that and as elated to hear his mother sound so happy, it had meant he was unable to visit his mother. They were never there at home anymore and Steve was missing his mother terribly.

 

 

_"Yeah. Win-win."_ She murmured in a daze and suddenly added in a hurry, _"Steve, I have to go. Uhm…it's an emergency."_ He arched an eyebrow in surprise at the urgency in her tone before catching up on what was apparently going on. He smiled softly to himself and then cringed at the image that popped into his head.

 

"Yeah, please don't elaborate further on that emergency. I'd hate to bleach my ears."

 

_"Steven…"_ his mother's stern tone came through and Steve cringed even states away.

 

"Sorry, sorry. Have fun, ma. Bye." he apologized and then added in a cheery voice, his voice breaking into a high-pitched squeal at the end.

 

_"Bye and take care, honey. I love you."_ he could hear Sarah laugh at the enthusiasm in his bye and he smiled softly at the laughter he was longing to see in person. God! he was missing his mother terribly.

 

"Love you too," he added in a heartfelt whisper and hung up. the day had started well and he was looking forward to the rest.

 

(*)

Steve yawned as his coffee slowly percolated down his cup, the heavenly smell of the brew making Steve sigh in anticipation and at least attempt to open his eyes. He blinked away any remaining sleep as he lifted his cup and turned towards the dining table from where the soft pitter-patter of bare feet hit his ears.

 

"Good morning, Pietro." He smiles softly at the sleep rumbled look on the otherwise well put together blonde and shakes his head when he notices that Pietro is in nothing but his boxers and a shirt that's clearly Bucky's given how big it is on his lean, thin body. He stifles a laugh into his coffee and turns to prepare another cup for Pietro.

He's hardly surprised to see the young blonde out of bed so early, fully aware of Bucky's habit to go running at ass o' clock in the morning, but it still surprises him that he came downstairs instead of going back to sleep. The least Steve can do for a fellow early morning zombie, is make him a cup of heaven.

 

"Oh. Good morning, Steve. I wasn't expecting to see you. Sorry." Pietro looks down at himself when he sees Steve smile and offers him an apologetic smile in return. It's a cute smile, a smile Steve is willing to bet floors Bucky, but the words sting in an unexpected manner.

 

Steve shouldn't have come down, seeing as he knew that Pietro stayed the night. He places his cup on the counter and faces Pietro without the cover of his cup.

 

"No, I'm sorry. I knew you were staying the night and-" he begins but Pietro cuts him off immediately.

 

"Oh, no, no. that's not what I was talking about. It's just that Bucky said you hate mornings and would certainly not be up so early. That's why I…came down like this. So, I'm sorry." He picks up Steve's cup from the counter and hands it to the blonde before picking up his own and taking a long sip from it despite its scalding temperature.

 

"I think we both shouldn't apologize since it sounds an awful lot like Bucky's fault. He gave you inaccurate information and embarrassed you. He should apologize." Steve smiles at the blonde who stands beside him and leans onto the counter and watches a mischievous smile spread over his pale features.

 

"Ooo, I like the way you think. Let him apologize." Pietro grins wickedly and Steve can't help the laughter that escapes him at the look of such evil on such an innocent face. They both spend some time indulging in their malicious idea of making the alpha apologize for the confusion and the subsequent mirth before Steve places his empty cup down in the sink and turns sideways to face Pietro, naked vulnerability concealed beneath years of practiced emotional masking.

 

"Pietro, I feel like I should apologize for a host of other things though. You guys like each other and are a couple, but, because of me you can't even…I'm really sorry. If you want, I could leave for a night or a couple of days or something."

 

"Steve…I should be the one apologizing. I'm dating your husband, irrespective of whatever agreement or deal you guys have. As if the fact that you're allowing that is not enough, you are offering to leave? Dude, first of all, no. And second, you're an angel. Bucky is lucky to have you in his life as his husband." Whatever vulnerability Steve attempted to cover, shines through on Pietro's face. Steve can see that he means every word of what he says, can see the gratitude and awe sparkle in his eyes.

 

It's too much to look into his pale eyes and see a variety of emotions Steve has spent years convincing himself he doesn't deserve. Seeing the respect, understanding and genuine affection for Steve in Pietro's eyes is a reality check, a check that tells him he is finally not alone, he has people who see him for him now.

 

"And he's lucky to have you as his boyfriend too, Pietro. You're great. You're being so understanding of what he is going through and that takes a man of a big heart and great empathy." He replies, hoping his eyes are conveying all that Pietro's eyes did. He hopes Pietro knows he is not just returning a dishonest compliment, that he means every word, every sentiment in that sentence.

 

"I'm not all that great, Steve. If I'm honest with you, first I was pissed at the no-sex thing. I couldn't understand why he would take a stand like that. But then when I sat down and thought about it, it relieved me. He cares so much about you, your feelings, your sensibilities, but he's only known you for like less than two weeks. He has no reason to do so, considering the circumstances of your marriage. But he does. He cares for you, considers you his friend and has adopted you into his family. And those are great things to do and things you want the man you love to do. He's a good guy and I'm not gonna stop him from being one. And I know this is gonna sound bad, but if he can care so much about somebody he barely knows, somebody who entered his life without his permission, be so respectful of somebody he doesn't love, then it's safe to say he's gonna treat me well too. I don't mean any disrespect to you, Steve, but I hope you understand what I'm saying."

 

And Steve does understand. It's something he has also found himself wondering about a few times in the past week. Bucky's has been nothing but respectful and understanding of Steve's needs and space. From making dinner, to morning walks to high branded coffee, Bucky has known and adopted Steve's ways and habit into his life without a hitch. Instead of making Steve feel like he was a stranger staying in a stranger's house, Bucky's has made him feel at home here. Instead of treating him as an omega, Bucky had treated him as a companion, as a friend, as an equal.

 

Steve totally understands when Pietro says Bucky is a good guy.

 

"He is a great guy, Pietro, you're a lucky guy. But, you're also no less, like I said. Nobody would've been this understanding, but here you are, having a conversation with the guy who's essentially cockblocking you and calling him an angel." He only adds that last sentence to break the heavy tension that he feels in the room with all the serious talk they are having. The joke works a bit, Pietro laughs for a moment before composing himself and replying in a solemn tone.

 

"That's because I don't lie."

 

"Okay. Pancakes?" Steve questions and that ends the tension in the kitchen as Pietro's face splits open into a beaming smile. He launches himself at Steve, arms around the blonde's skinny frame and hair buried somewhere very close to Steve's eyes. He hugs (squeezes) the life out of Steve and steps back to flash a dazzling smile at the blonde.

 

"Oh my god! You are an angel, Steve."

 

"So, what do you two have planned for today. Bucky was very excited when he told me he took the day off to take you somewhere." Steve changes the topic as he tries to account for all the broken bones in his body. He pulls down the pancake batter from the shelf and goes about mixing when Pietro starts talking, his tone a little down and lacking all prior excitement.

 

"He was, wasn't he. Hmm."

 

The silence lights a fire through Steve's core. He glances back to see Pietro's face pulled down in a frown and it makes him worry. Is there a problem with their relationship? Is he gonna have to witness another relationship collapse around him? Was he responsible for the break of this one too?

 

"You don't seem happy about it, Pietro. Everything okay?" he tries to keep his panic off his tone and scent, and it seems to work when Pietro doesn't lift his head from his intense scrutiny of the floor.

 

"I was the one who suggested we go to Smithsonian because he couldn't stop talking about it and it was worth it to see his face light up. But then I remembered that I have an essay pending that needs to be submitted in two days and today is the only day off I have to do research for that. I don't wanna let him down."

 

As soon as he finishes speaking, Steve lets out a sigh of relief. He laughs internally at the triviality of the problem and pats Pietro's shoulder in comfort.

 

"I'm sure he'll understand, Pietro. As you said, he's a great guy. Of course, he'll understand."

 

"You said he's a great guy." Pietro's counters immediately and Steve sees a ghost of a smile breaking through the frown. He mock-glares and takes his hand back, feigning nonchalance as he states.

 

"I think we both agreed on that. But the point is, he'll understand."

 

"Aww, you guys think I'm great? Thanks, boys, you sure know how to make a man feel special." Bucky enters the kitchen with a shit eating grin and both Pietro and Steve jump a mile in the air.

 

"Jesus Christ, you scared us, Buck." Steve placed a hand on his racing chest and glared at the brunette while Pietro threw a nearby rug at him and folded his arms across his chest with a scowl.

 

"Don't do that again or you're sleeping on the couch." He admonished and Steve saw Bucky pull of the cutest pout in history at the threat. As it unsurprisingly works its magic and Pietro smiles again, he enters the kitchen and takes a seat on the counter next to Pietro.

 

"Sorry, sorry. But back to the topic of contention, Steve's right Piet. You should've just told me. Your education is the most important thing and a simple thing like a date is not gonna come before that. You and I can go on a date whenever we want, but your studies, they have a fixed time." He says as he swings his legs and dips a finger in the batter to taste it. Steve bats his hands away and glares at him, but at the return of the pout, he gives in to his antics.

 

"You were excited about this. I don't want you feeling bad."

 

"I would've felt a thousand times worse had you flunked the essay because of me. The Smithsonian is not going anywhere, Piet. We can always go later."  Bucky turns towards his boyfriend and pulls him to stand between his legs. Pietro goes without a complaint but Steve can still see that he feels bad about not keeping his promise to Bucky. Bucky must see it too because he leans down to place a soft kiss to Pietro's forehead and murmurs something that has Pietro smiling up at him like he hung the moons and stars. It is quiet for a while in the kitchen as the pancakes sizzle on the pan and the three of them stand around it in comfortable silence.

 

"Or you could go with Steve. He's into this stuff." Pietro remarks suddenly and it breaks the silence that had set upon them. Steve looks between Bucky and Pietro but both their gazes are locked on each other.

 

"How do you know?" Steve and Bucky ask at the same time and Pietro turns to Steve to answer the question, flailing his arms around in excitement and obvious pride at his own brilliant idea.

 

"Your face lit up when I said its name. and I have a feeling you both would enjoy it way more than I will."

 

"You sure, Pietro?" Bucky asks uncertainly, casting a doubtful look towards Steve as well. Steve shrugs at him and Pietro nods enthusiastically.

 

"Yup."

 

"I'm game if you are, Stevie. You ready to go nerding?" the brunette asks him and Steve already knows his answer even before the pout makes its appearance.

 

"Born ready." Because he has nothing to lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How excited are we about the Stucky not-date-date? I'm very excited!!!
> 
> If you guys wanna talk about Marvel, Stucky, endgame, this story or anything on your mind, I'm on tumblr under the username Apieceofurmind. Come say hi and lets talk about how S'd in the B we feel after endgame (you know what I am talking about)


	12. A Walk Down Memory Lane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is a date. But not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I built some pretty strong expectations for this chapter, but, I did a poor job of it. Because I have never been on a date and I don't know what people do on them. And I am not the most romantic person alive, but I might be the least.

**_20th March 2020_ **

 

It was a beautiful day and Steve was glad they were not spending it indoors. The sun shone brightly in a clear sky, the weather was perfect, neither too warm nor cold, and a soft breeze carried with it the smell of flowers and the earth.

 

The George Gustav Heye Centre, National Museum of the American Indian, was bustling with activity. There were a number of tourists in the mix, eager children and adults alike carrying brochures and phones, but the majority of the crowd was still made up by the American population. People clicked photos and selfies outside the building, some smiling, some smizing and Steve barely repressed his smile at a couple who decided this was the place to make cheeky faces. 

 

He looked around as they walked to the entrance while Bucky typed something into his phone rapidly. Steve ignored the brunette and the monotonous click of typing, and instead watched a number of people excitedly talk amongst themselves as they walked. He smiled at a blonde's excited gesticulations and another brunette's deep, frown laced sermons before he tried to recall what he had seen the last time he'd been here. He was hit with the images of the rich history of the Caribbean and its beautiful people; the Taino Exhibit, an absolute masterpiece. 

 

 

"Did you know they had an exhibit in 2009, that celebrated skateboards, graphic designs and film making? How cool is that? That was like the ‘in thing' those days, Stevie." Bucky's voice drew him away from the legacy of Native peoples throughout the Spanish-speaking Caribbean islands and their U.S. diasporas, and back to the footsteps of the museum.

 

He watches Bucky as he turns his phone screen to show Steve the official page of the museum and the omega smiles when he realises this is what Bucky had been doing for the past few minutes. He nods at what Bucky shows him and then takes the phone from him to open another tab and search. As soon as he finds what he is looking for, he turns the screen towards Bucky and lets the brunette read its contents before speaking.

 

 

"I don't think it's as cool as the Ancestral Connections exhibit, they have going on right now. Like isn't that what is worth putting up an exhibit for?" he questions. Bucky looks at him for a minute, eyes trained on baby blues but mind elsewhere. It's after a moment or two that he speaks, each word slow and dragged out like he is putting together a sentence he isn't sure makes sense.

 

"But the present instigates the future just like the past did the present. If we can celebrate somebody else's present, we can and should celebrate our own too, don't you think?" he smiles uncertainly and it forces Steve to stop and think about what the brunette said.

 

He realises two things: one that Bucky is smarter than he looks and the second that Bucky might be a nerd. He settles on admitting the second because he is a dick.

 

"You know what I think, Buck? I think you're a nerd, a big one." He smiles and Bucky huffs in return. 

 

"And you also seem to think you're funny. Ha. Ha." The alpha deadpans in return.

 

"Jerk. Though, there's nothing wrong with being a nerd. I like nerds." Steve pats his hand soothingly and Bucky raises his eyebrows in mock condescension.

 

"That's narcissism, punk, and it's generally frowned upon." He says seriously and Steve can't help but clock him in the arm playfully.

 

"Look who's being funny, Bucket Barnes."

 

"Look who's being a grumpy pants, Stove Rogers." Steve sticks his tongue out at Bucky and Bucky immediately starts making faces at him in return. Lost in the absolutely important thing they are doing; they completely forget where they are standing stand and continue trying to outdo the other till an elderly lady clears her throat next to them.

 

Steve jumps a little and immediately drops his hands from his ears, while Bucky straightens up and puts his hands in the pocket. Both men give the lady twin guilty smiles while she grins at them in amusement.

 

"You guys are cute. Make a fun couple." She compliments and Steve immediately moves opens his mouth to correct her. Before he can say anything, Bucky gives her a lopsided grin and puts his hand on Steve's shoulder.

 

"Thank you." He answers with sincere gratitude and the lady smiles at the two of them again, her eyes shining and expression soft.

 

"Have fun, boys." She waves to them as she steps back and the boys smile at her as she leaves.

 

"Thank you, ma'am."

 

"Have a good day." Steve's adds and she gives them a smile from over her shoulder.

 

 She is a good distance away when Steve turns to Bucky with an incredulous look and over the top gestures.

 

"She thought we were a couple. Why didn't you say anything?" he questions in a hurry and Bucky shrugs in return.

 

"Because it doesn't matter what she thinks, Steve. You know the truth, I know the truth, nobody else's comments matter."

 

"And you'd be okay with people assuming we're together?" Steve stares at him sceptically and Bucky shrugs again before turning sideways and looking at Steve with a knowing grin.

 

"I already told you, you're a catch. Now I think you're just fishing for compliments." He stated and started walking again. Steve jogged a little to catch up with him and shoved him with a shoulder.

 

"And I think you're a jerk."

 

"And I know you like me anyway." Bucky singsonged and gave Steve the same innocent grin he'd given the lady. Steve doesn't understand the way his heart does something funny at the sight, but he is so shocked by it that he forgets his retort.

 

And eventually does what he does best, he sticks his tongue out at Bucky again who starts laughing like it's the funniest thing he's ever seen. And Steve's glad Bucky's not questioning Steve's acquiescence of his assumption, because Steve certainly is.

 

(*)

 

They enter the museum and immediately fall silent. Steve's walks into the grand hall and stops to read the different pamphlets that are kept at the entrance. He picks up the one for ‘Infinity of Nations' and is immediately overwhelmed by all the pieces he has been looking forward to seeing for years. He flips through the pamphlet quickly and then stops to read the instructions to the side.

 

"Why are you walking like that? So far away." Steve notices what Bucky is referring to when he notices the distance between them. Not much for two strangers, but definitely too much for them, especially considering how close they were mere minutes back.

 

Steve prepares himself to apologise, say something lame like he was interested in the pamphlets Bucky is not into but notices the sign at the last minute.

 

"So that I don't accidentally touch you." He retorts cheekily and doesn't even have to turn around to see Bucky's confused face. He smiles quietly to himself as he pretends to read the pamphlet and maliciously cheers when Bucky's happy-chocolate-scent turns slightly bitter with confusion and embarrassment.

 

"Is it about what she thought?" he asks quietly, his tone betraying the furrow between his eyebrows and the frown on his lips.

 

Steve turns to look at the alpha, eyes twinkling in mischief and mouth pulled into the most playful smile he can muster and points to the board placed next to the help desk.

 

Even in plain black letters, the message is very clear.

 

Don't touch the art.

 

"No, it says not to touch the art pieces." He watches the confusion lift from Bucky's face and a shy smile take its place. The brunette rolls his eyes at the blonde and gently shoves him away as a blush rises on his cheeks.

 

"Steve! I have a boyfriend. How could you?" he turns in an overdramatic manner and splays both hands on his chest, eyes comically wide and mouth open in a silent gasp. Steve shakes his head fondly, as always in awe of the man who could go from worried, confused and embarrassed to playful, cheery and comical in a second.

 

"A boyfriend! But I'm your husband." He whisper-shouts and mirrors Bucky's pose perfectly. Bucky immediately drops his hands, schools his expression to that of guilt and awkwardly pats Steve's arm, a sly look in eyes and a grin threatening to split open on his mouth.

 

"Well, in that case, flirt away." He graciously acquiesces and Steve can't help but laugh with him.

 

"What are you looking forward to?" Bucky questions once they've calmed down and started taking the trip seriously. Steve points towards the gallery and shows him the pamphlet he's been holding.

 

"The Infinity of Nations exhibit. They are showcasing some pieces of art I've been looking forward to seeing for years."

 

"Nerd!" Bucky says softly and Steve can't help the smile he gives the brunette.

 

"Shut up! What are you here for?" he questions, folding up his pamphlet and stuffing it in the back of his jeans.

 

"Patriot Nations. It's about the American Indian people who served in the US Army. It's gonna be good!" Bucky's grins excitedly and Steve can't help the way his scent soars to compliment Bucky's excited one. They walk together till the gallery showcasing the Patriot Nations and Steve lingers uncomfortably at the entrance.

 

"You gonna take long there?" he questions, hoping Bucky answers in the negative and they can at least go see a few pieces together.

 

He really wants to see the Infinity of Nations and he knows Bucky was looking forward to this exhibit, but so far, he had really enjoyed their time together and he doesn't want them to split. It's fun hanging out with Bucky, his dry sense of humour, sarcastic comments, cheeky retorts, and all-around cheerful persona. It's fun to tease him and being teased in return. It's fun to see him take an interest in something Steve suggests and it's fun to see what interests him.

 

Moreover, it's amazing to see Bucky's face light up when he sees something he enjoys and Steve is not sure why he doesn't want to miss that sight.

 

He raises expectant eyes to Bucky but the brunette is excitedly reading through the descriptions on his phone. 

 

"I might just stay overnight. Do you think the exhibits come alive like in night at the museum?" he turns to Steve and it's impossible to look away from the glow on his face and the spark in his eye. Steve chuckles at the man child and shakes his head, albeit a little regretfully.

 

"No, I don't think so, Buck and I don't think you should try to find out either."

 

"Well, then I'm going to stay will closing time, know all there is to know. Brave American Indians, here I come!" he announces and walks towards the first exhibit. Steve stalls behind for a second till Bucky stops and turns, raising quizzical eyes at Steve's abrupt halt. 

 

"Should we split up and go? It'll give us more time to see our exhibits." He suggests half-heartedly, having no interest in missing out Bucky's hilarious commentary or his childlike enthusiasm regarding the war facts. He loiters unsure for a second before looking at Bucky and is surprised to see Bucky walking back towards him.

 

"Nah… I think we should stick together. Don't want anybody trying to take my art home." He says and takes Steve's hand in his and rests it in the crook of his elbow. He starts walking back towards the exhibit and Steve walks behind him in a daze till the occurrence catches up with him.

 

"Your art?" he questions with an eyebrow arch and Bucky turns to look at him with a similar expression.

 

"I thought we established the fact that we were husbands?"

 

"Touché." Steve grins and Bucky retunes the action.

 

"Let's go, Stevie. We've got a lot to see."  He pulls on Steve's arm and Steve happily steps up beside him.

 

(*) 

They lost themselves in the exhibits, the magnificent Kayapo Krok-Krok-ti, a macaw-and-heron-feather ceremonial headdress, an apsaalooke robe illustrated with the warriors' exploits, an elaborately beaded Inuit Tuilli, a Mapuche kultrung, an ancient mortar and much more from around the world. They felt themselves travel back in time with the native Americans, with Hoarce Poolaw and his P-40 Warhawk, with the George Washington Peace Medal, in their honour dances welcoming home heroes and their eagle-feather war bonnets.

 

Time flew at the Smithsonian and the two men had the time of their lives by each other's sides. They skipped lunch, reluctant to waste time on lunch and miss valuable time and spent their day walking through time, space and place.

 

It was past 5 when they left the Centre and Steve could hardly stand with the hunger that threatened to dizzy him immediately. He kept quiet about it, but his wailing stomach soon gave him away to the alpha, who grinned at him and immediately stopped the car opposite a small café.

 

They ordered a sandwich each and a piece of pie, topped off with orange juice and fries. After the hearty snack, they decided to walk a little before going back home.

 

"Did you have fun?" Steve questioned after a while, his stomach full and heart content. He glanced at Bucky, only to see the brunette's head tipped skywards and content smile on his face.

 

"So much fun. I never thought I'd be into art like that, it's never appealed to me before." He confessed quietly and Steve was mesmerised by the bobbing of his Adam's apple. He averted his eyes guiltily and watched the general hustle and bustle of New York around him.

 

"Art is not for everyone. It's the prime example of ‘beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder', not every person appreciates every piece." He shrugged and was slightly caught off guard when Bucky's head snapped down suddenly and his gaze locked on Steve.

 

"What about your pieces, when do I get to see them?" he questioned with a small smile and genuine curiosity, but Steve just shook his head.

 

"Let's see, today is 20th, so…never." He rocked on his heels a little as he refused to meet Bucky's eye and disappointed expression. Bucky continued staring at the side of his face, but Steve refused to look back. Eventually, the brunette gave up with a sigh and kept walking by Steve's side.

 

"C' mon, Steve, why won't you show them to me? I know you're good." He pressed and Steve was the one sighing this time around. He huffed as he turned to look at the brunette and crossed his arms defensively.

 

"How would you know that?"

 

"Stark industries hired you and everybody knows they only hire the cream of the crop."

 

"Okay…but I don't want you to see them, they're very personal to me." He answered honestly and the brunette by his side didn't press for more.

 

"Okay. Can I at least see some that you've done for Stark?" he asked after a while and this finally got a smile out of Steve. The ones he had done for Stark Industries were public knowledge and he had no qualms about showing them to Bucky, though objectively he knew they weren't his best pieces.

 

"Of course." He nodded and it got a beaming smile out of the alpha. He grinned excitedly and suddenly stopped and spun around to look at Steve.

 

"And will you draw me?" he asked in all seriousness and Steve couldn't help the peal of laughter that escaped him. He shook his head in amusement and wiped his tears of merriment away as he answered.

 

"As long as you have all your clothes on and don't have a problem with sitting still." He again burst into a fit of laughter at the image of Bucky sitting on their couch, holding some ridiculous pose for Steve to draw him and this time it took more than a minute to calm him down, while Bucky watched on with a calculating smile and sparkling eyes.

 

"But Steve…" he whined playfully and Steve knew he was screwed, "nude modelling is the best."

 

"Fully clothed and still," Steve stated confidently, albeit between manly laughter (giggles), and it was totally worth seeing the smile break out on Bucky's face.

 

"Title of your sex tape."

 

"Excuse me?" Steve straightened immediately at that and glared at Bucky, his eyes squinting at what Bucky had said.

 

"You've not seen that show? You've not seen Brooklyn 99? This is unacceptable, no husband of mine can go without seeing B99." Bucky stated with authority and shook his head violently from side to side.

 

"Oh yeah? and how many husbands in total do you have?" Steve raised his eyebrow in challenge, a smirk pulling at his lips and Bucky rolled his eyes.

 

"Ha. Ha. Funny. Hasn't even seen Brooklyn 99 and thinks he's some hot shit!"

 

Steve looked at the grumpy brunette and couldn't control the laughter that escaped him at the sight. He threw his head back and laughed, his belly shaking with laughter and eyes screwed shut. He could feel Bucky's gaze on the side of his face, but it didn't deter him in the slightest. He continued till tears rolled down the side of his face and his stomach hurt.

 

As his merriment subsided, he wiped away his tears and smiled at the pouting alpha. Though his mouth was downturned, his eyes shone and his chocolate scent soared in delight. His own scent was no less elated about their day, as it perfectly complimented the chocolate in its sweetness.

 

Their moment was however short-lived, as Steve caught the sight of the man walking on the opposite side. His entire body seized in shock and his mouth fell open. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, didn't want to.

 

It couldn't be.

 

It couldn't be, his entire being screamed.

 

It couldn't be, his scent wailed.

 

He was subconsciously aware that Bucky was talking, was saying something pleasant and funny, but his conscious mind was still enrapt at whom he had seen and the disbelief that followed.

 

He is snapped out of his thoughts when Bucky nudges him with his shoulder, hesitant smile on his face and worried eyes trained on Steve's. He gives Bucky a barely-there smile and nudges back half-heartedly.

 

"Uh…sorry what did you say?"

 

"I said, let's go home so I can start your education." Bucky replies, but Steve can see the cogs turning in his head. He watches the brunette look around at their surroundings and it makes Steve jump into action. He runs to stand in front of Bucky and gestures to the direction they came from.

 

"Uh…you leave and I'll catch up with you later." He rushes the words out and starts walking.

 

"Steve…" the brunette begins but Steve doesn't let him finish. He starts running in the direction and shouts goodbye to Bucky from over his shoulder.

 

"Later, bye."

 

And then he runs. He runs as fast as his legs can carry him, as fast as his poor lungs will allow. He runs without stopping to look around or in front of him. He doesn't look at the people beside him or the cars on the road.

 

All he knows is that he saw somebody who was not supposed to be here. He saw somebody who was supposed to be miles away in Arizona. He saw somebody who was supposed to be at the Grand Canon with his mother.

 

He saw his father.

 

(*)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we all knew this was coming :((


	13. They All Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where is Sarah?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Mention of domestic abuse, violence, blood and gory imagery.
> 
> Stay safe guys and here is the chapter we've all been waiting for :)

 

Steve leaves in a hurry, without looking back or around. Bucky watches him go, his instincts telling him to follow. He ignores them, fights the voices in his head that scream Steve's in danger and wills himself to turn around and go back home. He almost does it too, but his body refuses to get in line with his thoughts. He takes a deep breath, looks around for a second and then immediately takes off after Steve.

 

Unlike the petite blonde, Bucky is unable to navigate through the crowd like the wind. He follows Steve to a distance but soon loses the blonde in human traffic. He stops in the middle of the crowd and runs distraught hands through his hair

 

"Damnit!"

 

(*)

 

His journey ended at the footsteps to his house. He stood wheezing on the driveway, hands on knees and tried to get his thundering heart under control. He hoped that his worst fears weren't coming through. He wished that it wasn't what he was making it out to be. He prayed that all this wasn't another elaborate deception.

 

Hoping against every fibre in his being and his nagging thoughts, he rang the bell. He heard footsteps on the other side of the door and his heart sank. For once, he had really hoped he'd be proven wrong.

 

"I was hoping I wouldn't see you here. I really prayed for it too," he admitted to his mother with teary eyes. Sarah stared back at him in horror, her eyes getting misty the more she looked at him and shook her head in denial.

 

"Steve…Stevie…" she began but couldn't continue. Steve waited for her to say something, to disappear like a nightmare, a bad dream. But she stayed, looking at him with guilty eyes and a mortified expression.

 

"So, did they transfer Arizona here or did you lose your way, ma?" he doesn't need her to answer his question but he still waits. Waits for her to defend herself, to save him from the weight of her own actions.

 

"Steve, I was going to…how did you-" she begins and stops again, shamefaced and ashamed, head hanging low and tears rising high. Steve waits for her again, for the excuses, the tears, at the very least for the apology he deserves. They don't come, they never do, he thinks and almost smiles sadly at the thought.

 

"Know you were here? I didn't, ma. But thanks for letting me know, I really appreciate it." he tells the stairs under his feet.

 

"Steve, I…I didn't want you to…you must understand-" she stops again and this time Steve feels his patience slipping through, feels himself lose that tiny shred of any remaining empathy for his mother.

 

For years he has been understanding. For years he has been adjusting. For years he has been strong.

 

Every man breaks at some point. Today, Steve Rogers reaches that point.

 

"Yeah, I must understand that you were protecting my father and keeping me away from that shiner on your face. Don't worry mom, I've been understanding that since I was a child."

 

Even as he says it, it is hard to look away from the blooming bruise on her face, the stark contrast of blue-purple and her pale complexion. Its an unspoken rule in their house, no mention of the bruises, the cuts or the cigarette burns. It's the rule that no one mentions the screaming, the shouting, and the abuses. It is a rule that they don't feel sorry for the other, only for themselves.

And Steve broke the rule.

 

And Sarah's subsequent surprise is evident on her face, in the widening of her eyes and the gaping of her mouth.

 

"Steve…he-" this time Steve knows the excuses are coming, her defence for his father, the lies. He interrupts before she can feed him those again and throws his hands out to stop her from continuing.

 

When she flinches away from it, he pretends not to notice, even as it breaks his heart.

 

"Were you ever in Arizona? Did you go see the statue of liberty? Did he take you out on beautiful dates, buy you flowers as you claimed?" he feels the tears build up as he speaks. Feels the weight of every lie, every deception, every false statement hit him like a rock.

 

He's been hit before in his life. Bullies, his father, nuns in Catholic school, Mrs. Turner around the corner. But none of them hurt as much as his mother's lie. None of them hurt him with the intensity he experiences when his mother shakes her head and confirms his suspicion.

 

"No, Stevie. No…"

 

"Then what am I supposed to understand, ma? Other than the fact that you've lied to me for weeks, and did it to protect my abusive father, what am I supposed to understand?" he screams, his voice hoarse from holding back his sobs. He faces his mom with fury red eyes, not knowing whom the anger is meant for anymore.

 

He is angry at his mother for lying and protecting his father. He is furious at his father for breaking his promises and hurting his mother. But above all, he hates himself for ever believing his father could change.

 

"Stevie…please, sweetheart," Sarah begs but Steve doesn't let her stop him this time. This is where he has gone wrong in the past few years. He always lets her sway him; he always lets her talk him out of calling for help, she always convinces him that his father is good. This time Steve is not ready to be swayed, to be convinced, to not get her the help she needs. 

 

"Is this how little you think of me? You are in grave danger and you never let me know? Why? Why? I sacrificed my life for this?" at his last word, he gestures to her face, to the sorry state of it, to the tears in her eyes. As tears fall from her eyes, he turns away from her, turns his back to the picture of his breaking mother, a porcelain doll with far too many cracks.

 

Some days it gets harder to not walk away from all that.

 

"It is not like that. Please don't say that. Stevie, please-" she sobs harder and Steve feels his resolve lightly crack. He turns back to look at her, at her red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. The omega who hasn't been loved by the one who's supposed to love her. As angry as he is, he can't turn his back on her, not when she needs him.

 

She always did, always does, and Steve has already turned his back once, just a few weeks back.

 

This time he can't. He takes a step forward and takes his mother in his arms. Lets her rest her bony head on his equally bony shoulder and cry as much as her heart wants. It takes him back to the night before his marriage, situations reserved but the same fear and regret in the scent around them.

 

"No. No, mom. I think you don't get to give me excuses this time. This time I deserve an answer. Why did you do this? Why did you not tell me he had started again? This time I deserved to know, ma." He says softly as her sobs turn to whimpers and she stops shaking with the force of her cries. He rubs her back softly and lets her cry some more.

 

"And why is that, Steve? Why did you deserve to know what happened between two mates?" a voice booms from behind them and they both step away from each other but stay close. Steve stands in front of his mom, a hand out to protect her and faces the man he hates head on.

 

"Because you promised me this wouldn't happen anymore. You promised me that if I married Bucky, you'd treat mom right." He screamed at the alpha, his scent crying along with him. Behind him he heard Sarah whisper a no, a plea for him to stop now, to not fight his father.

 

His mother's plea did not go unheard even though it went unanswered.

 

"You're right, I did. But then you decided to play dirty. You turned my son against me, you made him hate me." Joseph took a step forward angrily and his overwhelming scent hits Steve in all its fury. He took a step back at the putrid scent and bumped his mother lightly, making her take a step back and bringing a malicious smile of victory on Joseph's face.

 

"What are you talking about? I did not turn James against you nor did I make him hate you. I don't know what you're talking about." And he did not. He had never spoken to Bucky about his dysfunctional family, had never given him a hint of Steve's less than stellar life at home. Though he hardly spoke of his father, Steve had spent too many afternoons with Bucky, on their couch, telling stories about his childhood with his mother and their many quirky traditions. He had always made them seem happy and content, even when they were not. 

 

He knew this was just another one of his father's manipulative techniques. But this time, Joseph would not get away with it.

 

"Don't lie to me, boy. You told him I was abusive and that I mistreated you. You poisoned his mind against me with your lies and now my son doesn't want anything to do with me. All because of a pathetic, useless omega like you!" Joseph yelled back and Steve was shocked to see tears in his father's eye. After all these years, after always wanting to see them, Steve was still not prepared for them at the moment.

 

Because for all his father's lies and manipulation, there was no way he could lie about this. He could and would never paint himself as a bad guy in Bucky's eyes. There's no way he would drag Bucky's name like this for his gain. And for tears to spring to Joseph's eye, Bucky would have to actually hurt him.

 

Steve was prepared for his father's lies, but it's the truth that hit him hard.

 

Because Bucky knew. Bucky knew about Steve's toxic relationship with his father, of his mother's mistreatment at the hands of his father and Steve's similar plight. Bucky knew somewhat the circumstances of their marriage and the conditions Steve's lived under. Bucky knew all that and didn't say a word to Steve.

 

But it did explain a lot of stuff that Bucky had done over the past few weeks. And it made Steve angry to just think about it.

 

They all lied, he realised. They all lie.

 

"Lies? What part of that is a lie, father? You're abusive and all you've done your entire life is mistreat people. First, it was my mom and then me. None of that is a lie except that James is your son. He. Is. Not. Your. Son. I am. And it is time you accept it."  he stepped forward, his finger wagging in front of Joseph and let his tone and scent convey all the anger he felt. Joseph matched him step for step, stopping only when they were at a foot distance from each other.

 

"No son of mine is a useless, pathetic omega. You are your mother's son, a result of her sins of being a bad omega to her mate. After all, I've done for the two of you, all you do is complain. Both of you. Ungrateful little shits." He looked at Sarah and then at Steve, literally spitting the words at the young omega's face.

 

"Why are you like this? Why are you so hateful and unkind? What did I ever do to you, father? How am I to be blamed for what I am?" Steve's voice broke but he held strong. Even as tears sprung to his eyes and his hands shook, he stayed strong and let his words convey the absolute despair he had felt over the tears, the plea to be seen in his father's eyes, to be acknowledged, to be loved. He stepped forward again, till he was feet to feet with his father and let his vulnerability show, just for once, just for today. 

 

"How dare you talk back to me! I'll show you hateful, you son of a-" Joseph raised his right hand, palm poised to strike and Steve closed his eyes. It wasn't fear anymore; it was just a patient wait.

 

Because the pain was long gone and a hit meant Steve was getting to his father.

 

But the hit never came and Steve opened his eyes.

 

Beside him, stood his mother, her hand tightly grasping Joseph's outstretched hand and her face a mask of barely concealed rage. Her hands shook with power and her lips quivered dangerously as she spoke.

 

"Don't you dare touch my son, Joseph. Don't you dare!" she shrieked and Steve felt a smile split open his face.

 

"Sarah, let go of me, you stupid bitch. How dare you block an alpha?" Joseph screamed but she refused to let go, matching him a force to force and anger to anger. She looked him dead in the eye and refused to be intimated by his alpha voice. She stood her ground despite her bond mark and alpha telling her otherwise.

 

"I dare because he is my son, you just said so, remember? And I'm also a bad omega, ungrateful and pathetic. I dare to because I'm done with you, Joseph. This ends now." She pushed his hands away and took Steve's hand in her own. She sidestepped Joseph and began to start walking away, but the alpha took hold of her hands at the last moment. He grabbed her wrist and looked at her with contempt and disgust, his face twisting in an ugly snarl and a growl making past his lips.

 

"Don't you dare you stupid cunt. I'm your alpha and you will not disobey me."

 

"Let go of me. Let. Go. Of. Me. Right. Now." She shrieked but Joseph just tightened his hold. He smiled at her in a cruel fashion and tugged her closer by her hand.

 

"Or what, you gonna beg me? Fall at my feet?" he cooed mockingly and Sarah bared her teeth in a snarl. She let go of Steve and placed her other hand on Joseph's and tightened her own hold till Steve could see the blood stop in his father's arm.

 

"No. I'm gonna make you." She barely warned before letting go of Joseph's wrist and using the arm to punch him in the face. A sickening crunch delighted Steve's ears as Joseph's nose bled and he let go of Sarah's hand to wipe at his nose. The moment Joseph's attention went to his nose, Sarah swept his feet from under him and was on him the moment he went down like a sack of rocks.

 

She delivered blow after blow to his face, let the bones in both her hand and his face break and bloody themselves. Tears streamed down her face as Joseph's screams became indistinguishable from Sarah's and her blood mixed in with his own.

 

It was almost poetic, the stuff of soulmates where it became hard to recognise where one ended and the other started, as they became a blurry image of screams and blood.

 

"Ma, let go ma, he's not worth it. Let go." Steve gently took hold of his mother's shoulders and guided her away from his broken father. Sarah stood still for a second, her eyes glazed over, and seemed to come back to herself only to see the bloodied, broken mess that she had left of her husband.

 

And the poor lady broke down. Years of pent up anger, despair, loneliness, helplessness, fear, love, loss, hate and betrayal came crashing down as she fell to her knees. Steve helped her up again and she fell against him, crying and sobbing, blabbering nonsense and apologies into his shoulder till Steve caught the most important words.

 

"Take me somewhere else, Stevie. Take me with you."

 

And he didn't need to hear more. He supported his mother and started walking away from their house. As they walked away, Steve realised it was never home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your love and appreciation ( read: comments) keeps me going. Please validate me <3 <3 <3


	14. Am I All Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People are not who they seem to be, and Steve's had enough of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was long coming.
> 
> If you don't tell the truth, the truth will tell on you.

**_20th March 2020_ **

Steve didn't know where to go with his mom. He couldn't go back to James', not now at least and his going back to the house was out of contention. He had his wallet with him, but no phone, so calling Sam was ruled out too. He hired a cab and told the driver to start driving without a destination and looked out the window until inspiration struck.

 

And it did, in the form of a tall standing hotel and its bright shining lights. He booked two rooms with a connecting door and fell into his bed as soon as room service was ordered. Closed his eyes when the thoughts of an entire day threatened to overwhelm him. Groaned out loud when they eventually did.

 

"Steve, what's wrong, my son? Talk to me." He hadn't heard Sarah walk into his room, hadn't even detected the soft smell of rose water. He sat up as she approached and scooted back in bed when she took a seat on the edge of his bed.

 

"It's nothing ma. Go to sleep, we've had a long day."

 

"I am your mother, Stevie, I can't go to sleep knowing there's something bothering you." She moved closer to him and ran her hand through his hair. Without even meaning to, Steve leaned into the touch and closed his eyes with a soft exhale.

 

As he closed his eyes, he took in their situation. He took in the calmness and serenity of their surroundings, the tranquillity of their scents. He inhaled deeply, the scent of roses in full bloom and vanilla with a tinge of sourness. Just his scent, doused in questions.

 

"Trust me, ma, you don't wanna know what's troubling me. You won't like what you're going to hear." He admitted softly and fully expected the hand in his hair to still or even get a bit rough. But Sarah did not falter, she continued to gently massage the blonde's scalp and hummed to acknowledge she had heard him.

 

"I am stronger than you think, honey. I don't break easily."

 

And didn't Steve know that! He had seen his mom go through countless abortions at his father's whims, had seen her get thrown around, beaten and mistreated numerous times. Had seen her endure verbal, physical and emotional abuse at the hands of her mate, had seen her be reduced to nothing but her gender by everybody around her and had seen her still stand back up every time.

 

He'd seen her cornered, threatened, vulnerable, weak, down and still get up to fight again. He had seen her on the verge of breaking a myriad of times and then come back merely a little bruised.

 

"Nah ma, you don't. And you're also more deceptive than I thought." He hadn't meant to say the last part but he couldn't keep it in anymore. His mother wouldn't break, she had said so herself, and Steve was dying to get some answers of his own. He sat up a little straighter and Sarah's hand fell from his hair. He moved till he was sat facing her and watched as her eyes grew big.

 

"Deceptive? Stevie, what are-" she began but Steve couldn't bear any more lies. He threw his hand up to stop her and looked into her eyes as he spoke.

 

"You've lied to me so many times, I don't know what to believe anymore. What have you not lied about, ma? What's true?"

 

"I never lied for myself, Stevie. I've only lied for you, honey." She answered defensively and upon seeing Steve's disbelieving face, extended both her arms comfortingly. Steve looked at his mother's open arms and craved to crawl into them and forget the disturbing thoughts on his head but he couldn't.

 

He wanted to know why he was kept in the dark for so long. He needed to know what other lies there were between them. He desired to know where they had gone wrong in their relationship.

 

"No. No, you didn't. You lied to me to make yourself feel better about staying married to dad. You lied to convince yourself you had done the right thing. You never lied for me, you lied for yourself."

 

"Steve! That's not true and you know it. You know I could and would never-" her voice rose at the accusations and Steve felt sick at the smell of rotting roses. He shook his head at her, at the tears he wasn't entirely convinced were true and moved back a little on the bed to make save between them.

 

Both metaphorically and physically. For what he was going to ask next, he needed both.

 

"What you said about the war changing dad, was it true? Was he very loving and caring before marriage?" he asked her, eyes trained on her and voice unwavering. She froze at his questions and Steve knew he had hit the mark where it mattered.

 

She tried to look away, hide from his piercing gaze but he refused to let her do so, refused to let her shut him down now when he was finally getting the answers he had always wanted.

 

"No. No, he was not. I…" she began shamefaced, but couldn't continue. Tears sprung to her eyes at the admission and she averted her eyes from Steve as he felt his body seize up in shock.

 

_"The war. It changes people, Stevie. Makes them cold and hard. It did the same to your father too. It made him afraid and paranoid and when he came back home from it one summer, all he could think about was having a son and continuing the family name. He was so scared that once he went back, he would never return and his family name would end with that. Get lost in oblivion. After that time, I've never seen him smile the way he used to. Hasn't said a nice word to me in so long. It wasn't you, darling, it was the war that made your father hate me. Don't give yourself that credit."_

 

Lies, more lies. He felt tears prick his eyes at the realisation. It felt as if nothing he had heard in this lifetime was true, everything had been deception or manipulation. Steve didn't know what was true anymore, what was said to appease him and what was said to make him a fool.

 

And to think most of these came from the person he most trusted, his ma.

 

"Did it to protect me? Or to protect your image? The omega who did not abandon her mate even after the war made him a cruel, horrible man instead of an omega who was afraid of leaving her mate because she didn't know what to do with herself without him? Was that not what happened? Tell me, mom. Tell me!" he screamed as he tried to forget the images of that night from his head. God! He had been so naïve. He had believed his mother, had convinced himself that his father was the way he was because of war. Had blamed the war on what was nobody's fault but his father's.

 

He tried to forget about the Steve who had found so much happiness in that news, in knowing he wasn't who made his father such a cruel, heartless man and was ready to forgive him too.

 

 

"It was my choice, Steve. As a female omega, you have no idea what I go through on a daily basis. To me, a choice is a big deal, because I don't always get one. The society has always chosen for me, from when I get married, whether my kids live or die, the job I do, what I study, everything. Marrying your father was the one choice I made, it was my choice alone. No one else had a say in it, I didn't let them have a say in it. It was my choice and I was not going to give them a chance to use that against me. It was the one choice I made and I was going to defend it, Steve. My choice, my choice!" hot tears streamed down her face but Steve could not be moved by them anymore. He got up from the bed, his own cheeks were shiny from tears that had spilled across and jabbed a finger at his mother, anger flashing in his eyes and crowding the already grief-stricken scents in the room.

 

 

"But it was my life you destroyed, ma. I understand what you go through, as a woman and as an omega, but my life, ma, did that never matter to you? Did you never think where your choices were leading you and I? You defended your choices, mom, but in doing so, you forgot to defend your son." His screams reverberated in the room till he himself couldn't stand in anymore. He sunk to the bed, his head in his hands as everything he just accused his mother of crashed over him.

 

He never knew that he thought such things, never knew that he harboured such feelings of resentment towards his mother. He had always believed that his anger was towards his father, but the fact that he may be bitter about his mother not protecting him, not defending him, had never crossed his mind. He couldn't believe what he had just said, but at the same time, he knew they were true feelings that he's always had.

 

"Is that what you think I did? Did I ask you to make the deal with your father? Did I ask you to marry James? Did I ever ask you to stand up against your father for me? What did I ever ask of you, Steve, that you blame me for destroying your life?" Sarah's voice was a dead whisper, soft yet hoarse in its delivery. Steve looked up at the question, at his mother who sat still and looked dead ahead as if she had seen a ghost and immediately felt guilty about what he had said.

 

He moved closer to her, his arm out to console her, but she threw his arm off her.

 

"Mom…I…"

 

"It's easy to blame others for your life, Steve. I'm sure there were times I didn't stand up for you against your father, didn't support you the way you wanted me too or even choose you. But I've never taken your choice away. I told you that you didn't have to marry James, that I was happy with my life. I told you, you didn't have to move out of the house. I told you to go to college and finish your studies, I even saved up for you. You chose to do or not to do anything with the suggestions I gave you. You made every single one of these choices, Steve, while I never got to make any. Marrying your father was my choice and it led me down a path of pain and heartache, but I still stand by it. It was my choice and I'm not gonna let you make me feel bad about it. Do you hear me?" she stood with a face set in stone and Steve could merely nod.

 

He had been given choices his entire life and it was not something his mom could say. He knew times were tough for him as a male omega but he couldn't imagine what his mom would have gone through as a female omega in a time that wasn't as progressive as now. He felt more tears come to his eyes as he thought back to the allegations he had made against his mother and there was hardly any more than he could shed.  

 

"I am sorry, ma, I really am. Thank you for everything you've done for me. Thank you for giving me a choice even when you didn't have one. I don't know where those hateful things came from, I just…"

 

"It's been a long day?" Sarah filled in with a small smile and took him into her arms, kissing the top of his head and rubbing his back with soothing circles.

 

"Yeah, it's been a long day." He admitted and barely stifled a yawn as his eyes grew tried with the events of a rather long day.

 

"Go to sleep, Stevie. We can talk about it tomorrow." Sarah placed another kiss to his forehead and lay him down on his bed. She pulled the comforter over him and tucked him in bed with a small smile.

 

Steve caught her arm as she made her way back to her room and apologised in a small voice.

 

"I am sorry, ma."

 

"I know you are, sweetheart. I'm your mother, I know you." She smiled sadly at him and left his room, leaving him in a dark room with his darker thoughts and a pang of guilt weighing a thousand pounds.

 

(*)

 

**_21st March 2020_ **

It wasn't until late morning that Steve went back to James' house to get his belongings. He used James' spare key to enter and didn't wait to even hang up his coat before leaping up the stairs into hi- the guest bedroom and gather his things. Much to his chagrin, in the few days he had stayed here, he had already packed up his entire apartment and moved it over. His easels and canvases were stored in the storeroom and the guest room was littered with his sketchbooks, charcoals, pencils, and watercolors. His freshly laundered clothes were neatly folded and left on his bed by James but the rest lay scattered on his chair and the floor.

 

He grimaced at the mess and started picking up his clothes, first from the floor and then from his bed. He popped into the bathroom for his toiletries and medicines before making quick work of his stationery. He grabbed his duffel back from the back of the closet and started filling it haphazardly, paying no attention to dirtying his clothes or spoiling his supplies.

 

He was so immersed in his task that he didn't notice the distressed chocolate scent of an alpha or said alpha entering his bedroom.

 

"Jesus! Steve. At least call and tell me you're not gonna come home." He exclaimed loudly and Steve jumped in surprise. He, however, did not turn around to look at the brunette and continued packing his bags.

 

"I was caught up in something and I didn't have my phone." It is not a lie. He had not taken his phone when he had visited the museum with James and after that, he hadn't returned home. His phone still lay on the bedside table where he had left it in the morning and Steve made a note to himself to not forget it when he left.

 

"You couldn't use somebody else's phone?" James questioned, his scent radiating nauseating amounts of worry and concern and it made Steve scoff. His own scent was far from happy with James at the moment and he kept his back to the brunette despite the alpha trying otherwise.

 

"I didn't think you were that important."

 

"Steve, what's wrong? Do you wanna talk about it?" James walked around Steve to face him and Steve felt a surge of anger at the look of pain James was sporting.

 

They all lie, he reminded himself. James had lied to him. Had hidden from him what he knew about Steve all these days. He was like every other alpha; he too had lied, deceived Steve, all the while pretending he wasn't like all other alphas. 

 

"No." the omega bit out and refused to even lift his head and acknowledge James' presence.

 

"If you ever wanna talk, I'm here. We're married after all." He gave Steve a small smile, expecting Steve to smile at their little inside joke, but Steve didn't return it, didn't even concede the gesture in any way. He continued stuffing clothes into his duffel and only stopped for a second to get his charger from his nightstand.

 

"Not for long." He murmured and the resulting surge of putrid chocolate was enough to make him wrinkle his nose and fight back the bile rising at the back of his tongue. He wills his heart to stop thundering and continues packing his bag while James splutters and stutters through his words.

 

"What do you mean?" he crocked out after a while and Steve shrugged nonchalantly.

 

"We should get divorced. We don't have to stay married anymore."

 

A pin dropped on the ground could be heard in the silence that followed those words. Steve stopped packing for a second, gauging James' reaction to the statement but James didn't physically react beyond a hitched breath and tightening of his shoulders. His scent peaked though, worry, concern, and confusion marring the otherwise perfect chocolate and it made something in Steve's chest hurt.

 

He had promised himself he wouldn't feel bad. He promised himself he would stand strong in front of whatever new lie James pulled on him. He wasn't going to let the alpha trick him again.

 

"What are you talking about? Steve, what's wrong? Talk to me." James sounded almost devastated and begging but Steve refused to be swayed by the alpha's breaking voice. He closed his eyes tightly and pulled his last pair of sweatpants into the duffel.

 

"I just did. I told you we should get a divorce." He shrugged and started zipping his duffel closed. He did not think of the symbolical gesture; bottling up his demons again without fighting them, without questioning them. an act of running again, just as he had when turned 18. Just as he was again, at 20. Always running, with no home to ever run to.

 

 He sidestepped James and pulled his charger out of the port before picking up his phone and stuffing it in his pocket.

 

"But why? What about my word to your dad?"

 

"My dad's not in the picture anymore."

 

"Dad's not in…Steve, what's going on? Where were you last night? What's going on damnit?" James yelled in desperation and all of Steve feigned cool left him in a flash. He turned red, teary eyes on him and fisted his hands at his sides. He tried controlling his breath and the erratic beat of his heart, but they were all a lost cause once he started talking.

 

"Why should I tell you anything, so you can pity me some more? Huh? So you can confer some more favours on me, offer me your friendship, a home, a companionship? Protect me from people and things I don't need protection from, play my knight in fucking shining armour?"

 

Every word hurt, but the truth always did.

 

He applauded himself for not crying, for not falling to his knees like he wanted to. He couldn't, however, bring himself to look at James when he spoke, because he knew he would fail then. He didn't need to look at the alpha to gauge his reaction though, he could see the confusion, the pain, the concern fly across those expressive features. And he knew from James' scent that his assumption wasn't far-fetched, he could smell it in the air around.

 

"Steve…I don't know what you are talking about. Make yourself clear."

 

"I'll make myself clear, you asshole. You lied to me for weeks. You lied through some stellar deception, offered me a friendship out of pity, made some fucked up story about me making this place home because you knew I had nowhere else to go, and confronted my father on my behalf when no one asked you to. You, James Barnes, tried to play alpha to an omega who didn't need it or want it in the slightest." He screamed and finally found the courage to look up at James.

 

And it was a mistake because if James was still acting, he was a painfully good actor. His face was a mask of pain, of betrayal and agony as if Steve had been the one lying to him for weeks. He hesitantly raised a hand towards Steve, palm upturned, his eyes watery as he asked in a hoarse voice. 

 

"You think this was a pity friendship? Steve, I never-" he began but Steve couldn't bear to hear anymore.

 

He was done listening to people feeding him lies. He was done listening to them make excuses for their lies, deceptions, betrayal. He was done being naïve and trusting even after having suffered the consequences for it multiple times.

 

He had stood up for his mother. He had made excuses for his father. He had forgiven his bullies again and again. Maybe, it was time he did the same for himself.

 

"Shove it, Barnes. I'm done. I'm leaving, I'll come back for the rest of my things later." He shoved James out of his way and picked up his duffel bag from the bed and slung it over his shoulder.

 

"Steve…please listen to me. Wait…" Bucky called from behind him and he almost hesitated at the door. Putting his next foot forward was harder after that, but he managed. One after the next, one foot following the other, head held high and duffel bag in tow.

 

Soon he was gone.

 

(*)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WEEP WITH ME BECAUSE I HATE THIS!!! BUT NECESSARY EVIL AND ALL THAT :((((


	15. Where Do We Go, Now That They Are Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night time is a time of self realization and introspection for the boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter tried to kill me :(

He tossed and turned recklessly, sleep not coming to him, even as the clock ticked away, recording every second, every minute, every hour. He kicked his sheets away and sat on the edge of his bed, tears in his eyes from both his frustration and his horrible day. His scent stunk up his room, frustration and botheration making it foul and sour as he shuffled restlessly in bed.

 

His footsteps resonated in the empty house, one that had just seemed like home a day back. He ignored the silence that lay thick in the dark and made his way downstairs for a glass of warm milk.

 

He stood by the stove as the milk warmed but couldn't stop his thoughts from wandering back to the blonde who walked out on him in the afternoon and then continued to ignore his calls since.

 

What had he been to Steve? What had their relationship meant to the blonde? Had he ever looked at Bucky and seen what Bucky had seen when he looked at Steve?

 

Had he seen a friend, a companion, a light in the darkness? Had he seen a gift., a blessing, serendipity? Had he seen just another alpha, somebody who only thought about his knot, his rut? Had Steve not seen how important he was to Bucky? Together for all of 2 weeks and some days and Steve had become so important to Bucky. Had he not been the same to Steve?

 

Who was he to Steve?

_"Friends?"_

 

The blonde's words echoed in his head and he shook them to clear it out. That's not what they were, Steve had made it very clear. Had made it very clear that Bucky was not important to him at all. Verbatim stated it.

 

He swallowed nausea that hit him at the remainder. He didn't know how everything they had, had hit the fan so quick. He had been the happiest he had ever been in the past few days. He had his boyfriend; his best friend and they had been getting along so well. He replayed the previous day in his head, the three of them, peace, content, and laughter in the kitchen.

 

And remembering that brought back memories of his trip to the Smithsonian with Steve, the wonderful day they'd spent together and the amazing memories. He could hardly believe that had happened a mere day prior; they'd been so happy.

 

_"Look who's being funny, Bucket Barnes."_

 

Maybe it was Bucky being funny, thinking there was any future with Steve. Their relationship, from their marriage to their friendship, all came with a ticking clock, a time constraint. They were not meant to be together, having been forced together by a cruel man for whatever selfish needs he had. It wasn't fate who brought them together, it was Joseph and Bucky thought it was rather poetic that he would be the one forcing them apart too.

_"You're an alpha, why couldn't you punch him in the face, it's not like the law is gonna come after you for breaking hierarchical norms. Was the guy an alpha?"_

 

The very words that had brought a smile to his face then, brought a scowl now. Steve had wanted him to punch Joseph then, but knowing Bucky had confronted him, he had walked out.

 

He stood up suddenly at the memory, threw the glass he was holding on to the floor and watched on in satisfaction as it shattered into what felt like a million little pieces. The satisfaction lasted all of a second before grief took hold of him again. The glass may have shattered beyond repair but his heart still felt more broken. Because not only had seeing Steve walk out broken it, every step he took away from Bucky had felt like he was walking on those broken pieces.

_"No more loneliness, James."_

 

Lies, all fucking lies. Bucky hadn't been the only one who had lied. Steve had promised, made Bucky promise too, that it was the end of loneliness for them both, that they would always be there be for each other. And Steve hadn't followed through on his promise, had walked right out of Bucky's life, leaving him alone, in a house that again seemed too big.

 

He turned off the stove but didn't move to pour the milk out, just stood watching it till he could clear Steve out of his head. The blonde shouldn't be getting to him like this anyway, Bucky had known him all of two weeks. And he hadn't known the true Steve either, not of Steve's own volition anyway, he had known the Steve who thought he was fooling Bucky with whatever happy stories of family.

 

_"Yup. A get-to-know-your-husband. I'll start. Well… my name is Steve Rogers and I'm twenty years old. I'm an artist and I do graphic designing on the side. I work for Stark Industries and have been doing so for around four years. My hobbies include reading and drawing and if I could be any vacation, I'd be a foreign trip."_

 

Bucky scoffed at the words. A get to know your husband, apparently. Bullshit! was what it was. He hadn't been the only one who hid something, Steve had also done the same. In fact, both of them had the same secret, Steve's abusive dad and his less than stellar childhood. He couldn't understand why his knowledge of that had upset Steve.

 

His hands shook as he reached out for the milk. He stopped and took a deep breath.

 

Even as he poured the milk out, his attention kept going to his cabinet, more precisely to the bottle of whiskey he knew he had in there. He could feel the liquor call out to him, extend a warm invitation to drown out all his grief in its comforting amber embrace. He took a step towards the cabinet, towards the numbing feeling he had been chasing all day but stopped himself.

 

He shook his head, tried to forget both the blonde and the amber liquid that sloshed around in his head and gripped the glass of milk in his hand more tightly. He absentmindedly took a sip, burning his tongue and finally bringing put the tears he had been fighting all day.

 

 

He sobbed, screamed, cried as he relived each day with Steve, each day he had found himself getting closer to the blonde. He cried at all the times they had sat on the couch watching Grace and Frankie, sobbed at every meal they partook together, screamed when he thought of all jokes they had shared, every smile, every laugh.

 

_"As if you and doughnuts are not the modern-day Romeo Juliet. You should see your face when you finish eating them, Shakespeare would applaud that drama."_

 

He barely caught himself from falling on to the floor as each memory got harder than the other. He stumbled to his couch, buried himself into the pillows as the realisation that he had fucked up caught up to him.

 

And he had. He had tried to play alpha, wittingly or unwittingly he had tried to portray himself as a knight in shining armour thus reducing Steve to a damsel in distress. He had hidden his knowledge from Steve, had let Steve think he was fooling Bucky with whatever great things he said about his family. He had let Steve think that Bucky was ignorant about Steve's familial relations.

 

And by the time Steve had realised, his actions had all seemed as a charity, something that had never crossed Bucky's mind. He needed to apologise to Steve, show him that he had realised his mistake, had realised that he had no right to treat Steve like that.

 

_"You're a great husband, tarts."_

He had to prove to Steve that he could be a good friend too, that all this was not pity, it had never been a pity. Their friendship was not built on pity, but it had been built on lies and they could rectify it, they could overcome this.

 

_"My husband is a hero and that is all I need to know."_

 

No, that's not all Steve needs to know. Steve needs to know how much Bucky wants him in his life, as his friend, as his companion, his serendipity. Steve needs to know that he is important to Bucky, he is a part of Bucky's home. Always will be.

 

And that's what he is going to tell Steve.

 

_"No…this is home to me too. It happened too quickly, too suddenly, but it happened. This became home. I don't want to leave."_

 

And he knows Steve wants it too. This is Steve's home too; he is Steve's home. They may both have their issues to work through, they both have years of trauma to get through but they can do it together, they can get through anything together. He's not the only one in this, Steve's there too, he just needs to remind Steve. They're better together, happier together. They are friends, thrown together by destiny, irrespective of who caused it. They met for a reason and Bucky is not gonna let Steve go without one either.

 

They can fix this, he knows. He knows he is ready to fight for them and he knows so is Steve.

He stumbles into his bedroom and grabs his phone. He can do this, they can still save their friendship, he knows he can.

 

(*)

 

Steve turns on to his back and throws an arm across his eyes. Sleep seems to not want to come to him and peace seems to have deserted him. He knows his scent is distressed beyond compare and his eyes always seem to be seeking out something in the dark. He pushes the comforter off his body and curls up on his side again, squeezes his eyes shut and tries to ignore the unusually loud thundering of his heart.

 

_"When I came back from Afghanistan, I had to play loud music to fall asleep at night, because the house was too quiet and I wasn't used to that."_

 

He jerked upright at James' voice in his head and looked around to make sure it had actually been only inside his head. He shook his head vigorously to get the gravelly voice out of his thoughts and lay back down after pulling the comforter back up till his neck.

 

His harsh breaths took over the silence in the room and his scent spiked in its displeasure. The room smelled and stank of gloom and he snuggled deeper inside the comforter to escape the stench of his own despair.

 

He didn't understand the source of his distress. He didn't feel guilty about anything he said, neither to his father, mother or to James. His father, that horrible, cruel man, had deserved whatever Steve had said to him, Sarah's anger and probably all of the world's methods of torture for the way he had treated Steve and more importantly Sarah.

 

Even though Sarah had pointed out to him how misplaced his anger at her was, truth be told Steve still wasn't feeling as guilty as he thought he would, considering all that he had accused his mother of. Sarah may not have taken away his choice, but she had kept him in the dark for too long, supported his abusive father for longer. He was still angry about that, probably would be for a while too, but he knew they would bounce back from that, the mother-son duo always did.

 

But James…

 

Compared to what Joseph and Sarah had done, said, hidden, James had done nothing wrong. He knew about Steve's shitty father, maybe even the circumstances of their wedding and he had confronted Joseph about it. Did Steve have any right to get angry about that, considering he didn't know what they spoke about? All he knew was that James had told Joseph he didn't want anything to do with him, anymore. And that was understandable, considering what he knew Joseph had done.

_"Sorry, just ran into an asshole and he insulted someone I know. I couldn't punch him in the face and it really irked me, I guess."_

_"Yeah, still a dick. But the person he was insulting, I don't think they would've been happy I hit the guy. Instead, I think they'd have come hit me."_

 

The realisation hit like a freight train. James had been talking about Joseph, had been pissed because Joseph had insulted Steve. and he had been right about Steve too. James had not even touched Joseph, just had some words with him and that still irked Steve, still made him insult James and walk out.

 

Why?

 

Why was he so angry at the one person, he isn't totally sure he's justified against?

 

The answer knocks on his conscious but he chooses to ignore it, instead settles for his ‘pity' escape.

 

James had pitied him, had offered friendship and a place to live because he had pitied Steve, pitied the conditions Steve had faced in his life. He had offered Steve a companionship because Steve had told him about the loneliness he felt at his old apartment. He settled for a truce with Steve because Steve was the one who begged for a friendship when they met for coffee. He offered to hold the divorce because he knew Sarah was in trouble.

 

He didn't do anything he did, because he cared about Steve. He did it because he is a fucking alpha who thought Steve needed his protection, his care, his fucking pity. Steve doesn't, hasn't ever needed handouts from anyone, much less a chauvinistic alpha.

 

He sat up as his anger boiled over, his scent wailing and screaming as his hands hurt from gripping the comforter too hard. He swiped angrily at the air around him, knocking off a vase sitting on the bedside table and his glasses. He threw the comforter off himself and jumped out of bed to pace angrily.

 

Who the fuck did James think he was, trying to play alpha to Steve? Who did he think he was, inviting himself into Steve's problems? Who was he to tell Steve's dad off for being abusive? Who was he to pity Steve, when his own life was a pit of loneliness? Who did he think they were to each other?

 

_"I thought we established the fact that we were husbands?"_

 

No! No, they were not. They were not husbands, they were not friends, they did not mean anything to each other. Bucky had Pietro to play husband with him, or home or whatever new fantasy he had. Steve was nobody to him, not ever, not now, not anymore.

 

Bucky had a home long before Steve, and Steve no longer felt welcome into it.

 

_"Steve…Steve look at me. We're…I…I was a mess before you came. I was lonely and this house was too big. I know you were the same, lonely and living in a too big apartment. You've made this place home, Stevie. You came in that door and brought something with you, something that makes this house a home and soothes an ache in me I didn't know I had. The circumstance of our meeting was less than ideal, but that circumstance gave me a very good friend and I'm not gonna turn my back on him just because somebody else came through. Just because Pietro came to my life, doesn't mean you have to leave. You're my friend, Stevie, and I'm pleading with you to stay. Please stay, unless you want to leave. Do you?”_

 

And that was it. Steve fell on the floor sobbing his heart out. He couldn't lie to himself anymore. He couldn't become one of those people anymore. If anyone was going, to be honest to him, it would have to be Steve himself.

 

And the honest, naked, vulnerable truth? It was that Steve had nothing to actually blame on James. Had no reason to hate him. He may have hidden what he knew, but how could he ever bring it up to Steve? How could he reveal to Steve that he knew Steve's dad was an asshole? And when had Steve given him a chance to do so either?

 

They were husbands, they were friends, they were each other's guiding light in the darkness of loneliness. They were not strangers; they were not nothings to each other. They were the home the other had always craved. Steve was Bucky's home, just as Bucky was Steve's.

 

So why was he angry with James?

 

Because it was easier to get angry at James and walk out, then to stand there and face every lie he had ever said that had fallen flat in James' eye. Because now that Sarah is safe, Steve has no need to stay in James' life anymore and it's easier to walk out in anger than in tears.

 

It's because it's easier to say goodbye in anger than in grief because as much as he wants to deny it, James has become home and Steve can't bear to give him up.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now it killed you :( 
> 
>  


	16. Sam And The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is smart, the boys listen to him.

**_22nd March 2020_ **

Sam blinked his eyes open blearily and squinted at the clock on his side table. He groaned at the little green digits and blindly searched for his blaring phone. He glared at the name on the screen for a second before swiping accept and closing his eyes.

 

"This better be important, Barnes, it's fucking 2 in the morning." He ground out as patiently as he could and pulled up his blanket back up till his neck.

 

"Steve left, Sam. He walked out today afternoon and…I don't know where he is. He's not at his old apartment or his parents' house. He's not picking up his phone and he's not been responding to my voicemails and…and…" James' hysterical voice came through and it made Sam sit up immediately. He barely registered the words James was saying, his attention on the brunette's irregular breathing, and he immediately went into his therapist mode. 

 

"Calm down, Bucky! Take a deep breath. C'mon. In and out. In and out." He guided softly and he could hear James pause for a second on the other side.

 

He kept breathing slowly and loudly into the phone, holding each breath for a few seconds before releasing, till he could hear Bucky doing the same on the other side. He could hear the brunette's breathing settle eventually and Sam sat up straighter against his headboard.  

 

"Now calmly tell me what happened and start from where ever things went south because I know Steve and he doesn't just walk out."

 

Bucky started talking. His voice though devoid go the earlier hysteria, still had an undertone of grief and worry and it made Sam upset. He had worked with Bucky when he had just returned from Afghanistan and this Bucky was unfortunately and uncomfortably very similar to the Bucky he remembered from then. He tried to concentrate on the words the brunette spoke, but as Bucky's long-time friend and therapist, he couldn't keep his attention completely off the brunette's breaking voice.

 

Bucky told him about the circumstances surrounding his marriage to Steve; something Sam already knew from Steve, but he didn't point it out to the distraught alpha. He told him about the deal Joseph made and the request he had in turn made to Steve. He went on to talk about the signs of abuse that Steve and Sarah showed, and he witnessed, followed by Sarah's extremely cryptic yet clear message to take care of Steve. He relayed to Sam his run-in with Joseph, the older alpha's insults about Steve and the way he had in turn given Joseph a piece of his mind.

 

Then he talked about how he had visited the museum with Steve two days prior and how happy Steve had seemed at the exhibit and then how he had apparently just taken off from there without any rhyme or reason and without giving Bucky any explanation.

 

"And then he came back yesterday afternoon and just started packing his bags. I asked him where he had been and why he hadn't called but he replied by demanding a divorce. I asked him about his father but he shot me down by saying his father was not in the picture anymore. I-"

 

But that caught Sam's attention. He stopped Bucky immediately and asked in a hurry, his own voice a little frantic.

 

"Wait a minute. He said his father's not in the picture anymore? What does that mean?"

 

"I don't know. I tried to ask him but he…" Bucky trailed off, his voice hitching a little again. Sam waited for him, giving him time to gather his thoughts and continue, but Bucky didn't say anything for a long time.

 

"He what, Bucky?" Sam prompted softly and Bucky made a soft sound on the other line as if he had just woken up. Sam recognised it for what it was, somebody who had just come out of his own head, so he didn't push again.

 

"He got upset with me. Said I had always treated him with pity and offered him a home and companionship out of pity. And that I just wanted to play a knight in shining armour, be an alpha to an omega to didn't need it." the brunette finished softly and Sam closed his eyes at that.

 

He could imagine the pain it must've caused Bucky to hear it, the weird sense of déjà vu that must've accompanied the words. He cursed Steve softly under his breath and addressed Bucky with a softness in his voice that he reserved for his patients.

 

"And what did you say? Did you tell him he was wrong?"

 

"I tried to, but he wouldn't listen to me. He told me to shove it and he just walked out." He heard Bucky exhale a sigh in exhaustion and he closed his own in the same. He ran a hand through his cropped hair and took a deep breath.

 

"If I ask you something, will you please be honest with me?" he asked for the sake of earning them both some time to compose themselves. He knew the answer Bucky was gonna give, but he waited for it nonetheless.

 

"Of course, Sam."

 

"Was it pity? Did you feel sorry for him when you realised the kind of life he had led, the way he had been treated? Were you helping him out of pity?" he asked and prayed that the answer would not be in the affirmative.

 

He knew Bucky, he knew the brunet didn't do things out of pity. He had known Bucky long enough to know his own hatred for pity, his absolute abhorrence of that emotion. But Sam had to ask, for Steve, for the blonde he cared about immensely. He had full faith in Steve's ability to read people, but just this one time he hoped the blonde was wrong. He really did.

 

And he needed proof of that from Bucky. 

 

"No! Jesus! No. I was trying to help, but it wasn't from a place of pity, wasn't even because I wanted to play the alpha. Maybe it started out as repentance, came from a place of guilt, but when I got to know him a little better, it was all genuine, Sam. I felt sorry for him, but my actions didn't arise out of that. They were genuine, I swear." He could hear the sincerity in Bucky voice and the relief in his own as he spoke.

 

"What were you repenting, Bucky? Where did guilt even factor in?"

 

"We met at a coffee shop after it was decided that there would be no going back on the word I'd given Joseph. I was hoping Steve would've convinced him to call it off, but that didn't happen. I was pissed, Sam, everything I'd hoped for back in Afghanistan: love, family, a white picket fence; it was all crumbling around me. I asked him why he had gone back on his word to me but he deflected the question and that irked me to no end. I shook off his attempt at being friends and stormed out. By the time I had connected the dots, understood that he had little to no choice in the matter, the guilt wouldn't let me live. So, I admit the truce came from a place of guilt, but everything after that was genuine affection. I never lied to him about the fact that I liked his company or that he was the best real-fake husband I could have. He did make this place home and I offered for him to stay because of that. It wasn't pitying, Sam, I swear." The brunette stressed again and Sam nodded to himself.

 

He understood the reasons for Bucky's behaviour, he could see why Bucky did what he did, both at the coffee shop and during his truce with Steve. He knew better than anybody that guilt was a better motivator than any otter emotion, he had after all been the guilty one on more occasions than one. But he needed Bucky to know where he had gone wrong.

 

Because he was not just Bucky's friend, he was Steve's too.

 

"Your repentance must have felt a lot like pity to him, Bucky. After a life of being pitied by everybody for being born an omega and not the healthiest one at that, he doesn't understand the difference between pity, repentance, help or affection. It's probably all the same to him and you must understand that. Why didn't you tell him you knew about Joseph? Why did you let him believe he was lying to you?"

 

"Because I didn't know how to bring it up. What was I supposed to say, Sam? Hey let's go visit the Smithsonian and by the way, I know your father abused your mom and you. There is no right time to bring up an issue like this, especially to someone who doesn't want you knowing any of it." he almost shouts, voice part exasperation and part frustration. He sounded tired and exhausted and Sam doesn't need Bucky to tell him that he hasn't slept a wink since Steve disappeared om him at the museum.

 

He doesn't know what to say to any of it. He honestly doesn't know how to help Bucky, to answer what he's asking, but he promised the brunette long back that he would always be there for him. And he was going to be too, even if it is just to give Bucky a little background on Steve and nothing else.

 

He can't tell Bucky how to apologise to Steve, but he can tell Bucky who Steve is, how he thinks and let Bucky go from there.

 

"No. But you could've given him a hint that you knew. Something that wouldn't have made him feel like a fool. For all of his exterior ice, Steve's a softie inside, Bucky. It's easy to hurt him, whether you realise it or not. You have to know that what you have done is nothing short of deception, you let him believe a lie that he was himself selling. It's like playing hide and seek with a child, Bucky. The child believes that just because they can't see you, it means you can't see them and we play along to that to humour them, make their day. But in your case, it's a grown man. A child may not understand that you are pretending to not see them out, of pity or whatever other reason you wanna put there, but another adult will know and it is not a pleasant feeling to feel stupid. Steve thought he was fooling you and you let him keep thinking so."

 

"How do I make this better, Sam? I want to apologise, but he won't even pick up my call and I don't know where he is. It doesn't matter if he doesn't forgive me, I just need to tell him I'm sorry, come clean about everything. I need to make sure he's safe, Sam."

 

"You're playing alpha again." Sam admonished not without kindness, but Bucky erupted at that. He could hear the indignance in Bucky's voice even before he spoke and he sighed softly. 

 

"No, I'm not. I'm being a friend. Jesus! You know how unsafe this place is, especially for omegas."

 

And Sam did know that. Knew that Steve could very well be in danger, out and about in the streets. But he knew Steve was smarter than that, wouldn't leave Bucky's without at least a plan as to where to go. But that didn't make it any less scary. He scrubbed at his eyes and exhaled softly.

 

"Sorry. I'll see if I can reach him and if I can't, we'll go searching, okay?" he asked softly, more for Bucky's peace of mind than his own, but that seemed to do the trick. The fight drained out of Bucky's voice and he was back to his soft-spoken self.

 

"Yeah. And Sam, sorry for waking you up. I didn't know who else to call." He admitted softly and Sam's heart hurt in his chest. Bucky had been back only a few months and the dude sounded more exhausted than he had when he arrived fresh of the battlefield, an arm lighter and guilt-ridden. He made a mental note to bring up Bucky's sleep schedule the next time he saw the brunette at the VA and hummed softly.

 

"That's okay, Bucky, but tell me this, what is your plan if Steve does forgive you?"

 

"Invite him back home. Try to make it up to him, hopefully, start afresh. No more lies. I'm gonna be honest with him, a clean slate so that we may go from there." Bucky spoke with conviction and Sam believed him. He nodded and rubbed at his eyes, sleep still lingering in the corners of his lids, and chanced another glance at the clock beside his bed.

 

"So, will you tell him about Hydra?" he asked and could hear the sudden breath Bucky drew. The brunette didn't speak for a long time, more than enough that Sam had to check he hadn't hung up on him and when he did start, it was after a long inhale.

 

"Sam…I don't know if I can. That's…" the brunette began but Sam interrupted before he could give any excuses. If Steve was gonna come clean, then Bucky would have to do the same too. And he made sure to let Bucky know that too.

 

"No more difficult than admitting to having suffered years of child abuse. He got forced into marrying you, James, Hydra will probably be easier."

 

"I don't know, Sam. I really don't." Bucky sighed and Sam knew it was the end of that conversation. He didn't expect Bucky to actually agree and the fact that they had a dialogue about it and Bucky was still on the other line meant the brunette had made some progress around his sensitive hydra issue. Or that he was too occupied with his Steve one.

 

Sam let the issue slide for now and concentrated on something he had been itching to ask since Bucky talked about Steve walking out.

 

"One last thing, Barnes. Was Joseph there at his place?" he asked feigning nonchalance, while he's holding his breath in anticipation.

 

"No. Nobody was there." Bucky answered dutifully and Sam nodded distractedly. He needed to know what had happened between the Rogers and he needed to make sure Steve and Sarah were okay. He didn't trust Joseph, not a bit and with good reason to.

 

"Okay. Go to sleep, Bucky, Steve will be okay. I'll call him, okay?"

 

"Sam, I had one last thing to ask." The brunet hurriedly added and Sam nodded wearily.

 

"Go ahead."

 

"Do you think starting these two relations at the same time was a mistake? Should I have waited for a firmer footing with Steve, before jumping into my relationship with Pietro?" the brunette sounded confused and ashamed of his query and it kicks start Sam's weary mind.

 

He didn't know where this sudden question was coming and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. This was bad, the very thought was and that the idea had been in Bucky's mind was worse. He couldn't let such a thought take root in Bucky's head, it was bad for his mental health and Sam did not want that, not as his former therapist or more importantly as his friend, and he needed the brunette to know that.

 

 

"I'd tell you not to dwell on it now, because that ship has sailed, Bucky. But for your own sanity's sake, no I don't think two relations at the same time was a mistake. Steve is your friend; Pietro is your boyfriend. They are two different relationships, with equal importance. Had you put aside your relationship with Pietro for Steve's sake, then at this moment, you would have been alone. There's no right time for any relationship, Bucky. You meet people at the time you do and you should grab your chances as they come. Pietro is important to you and from the fact that we're on a call at 2 in the morning, I'd say Steve is important to you too. A person in life has different relations with different people and they are all important. One without the other doesn't make any of them better than the other and nobody should have to depend on one relationship for all their needs."

 

"Am I being selfish though? Holding on to both? Leading them on?"

 

"Are you in love with Steve?" he questioned suddenly and he could gear Bucky frown in confusion.

 

"No." he answered, sounding like he was afraid Sam had lost his mind due to lack of sleep.

 

Sam wasn't sure he hadn't. 

 

"Does Steve know about Pietro? Is he okay with it?"

 

"He knows and I think he is okay with it, though he was sceptical I would throw him out. I told him that was never gonna happen and he believed me. Look where we are at now." The alpha mumbled sarcastically and Sam decided to ignore his comment and focus on the main issue.

 

"Then you're not holding on to both. One is a friend; one is something more and you deserve them both. You weren't selfish when you lost an arm in Afghanistan, and you aren't selfish now." He stated firmly and waited for the statement to settle Bucky to agree.

 

"Okay. Thank you, Sam, I really needed this today. Good night and sorry for disturbing you." The brunette added sheepishly and Sam chuckled lightly.

 

"It's okay. You're my friend and I was happy to be there for you. Good night, Bucky."

 

(*)

After Bucky hung up, Sam stared at his phone for a while, mulling the conversation over and over in his head. He couldn't help but feel like he was meddling in something that didn't concern him and he was for sure sticking his head in where he was unwelcome.

 

But the truth was that ever since Joseph made the craziest demand and Steve was forced to agree to it, Sam has been part of Steve and Bucky's relationship. He still remembers Steve's phone call, his recounting of his marriage, the deal with his father and hearing how nice the alpha was.  Sam remembers feeling sceptical, wanting to storm into the guy's place and see him for himself. Remembers the feeling of wanting to play Steve's knight in shining armour. He also remembers Steve's absolutely undeterrable conditions, no sexist bullshit and he remembers promising himself to not upset Steve.

 

He also remembers both Bucky and Steve telling him about Pietro.

 

He's always been part of their relationship whether he wanted to be or not and this night (early morning) was just another part of it.

 

But he knew Steve wasn't Bucky and that his butting in wouldn't be taken kindly to. But he had dealt with Steve Rogers' bullshit for a year and he knew how to handle him.  He pressed call on Steve's contact and waited as the line rang.

 

"Pick up, pick up." He muttered under his breath and sighed in relief when it was picked up and Steve's voice came on from the other side.

 

"What the fuck, Sam? It is freaking two in the morning." The blonde tried to sound sleepy but Sam immediately saw through his bullshit when his voice came out too gruff and he sounded more coherent than he ever did when he was rudely awoken.

 

Steve may have forgotten, but Sam had not forgotten the multiple nights Steve's spent in Sam's apartment, sitting with him on his ratty couch watching stupid blockbusters and eating pizza, keeping him company on a lonely night before falling asleep there. Sam knows what a sleepy Steve Rogers sounds like and this was just not it.

 

"It is three, you freaking asshole and where the fuck are you?" Sam demanded sternly and he heard Steve frown on the other side, a soft sound but enough to let Sam know Steve was gonna bluff his way through this.

 

"What do you mean, where am I? I'm at home, in bed."

 

"At home? With Bucky?" Sam asked, fully knowing Steve was gonna lie and he could catch the guy in that act. There are times he thinks he should've been a goddamn lawyer.

 

"Yeah. But, he's in the other room if you wanna speak to him." Steve replied smoothly and Sam's patience flew out of the window.

 

He took a deep breath, trying to keep both his voice and scent under control and let it out slowly.

 

"Oh, don't worry, I've already spoken to him and surprisingly he was worried about your whereabouts. Funny how he didn't know you were in the adjoining room." He waited for the blonde to say something but Steve went silent on the other side of the line. The only clue that the blonde had not hung up on him was the harsh breathing still coming through and it almost made Sam smile. For once he had rendered Steve speechless and left him stumped.

 

If he had been more coherent and awake, he would definitely document this day.

 

"Sam, I…" the blonde began but Sam didn't give him a chance to complete.

 

"Can it, Rogers. he was just telling me about how angry you were that he lied, but funny how you seem to do it very often to me. Lying is second nature to you at this point, huh?" He interrupted rudely and spoke very sternly, making it very clear to Steve that he wouldn't be taking Steve's shit anymore. He cleared his throat when Steve went silent for a while and it seemed to awaken the blonde from whatever mental abyss he had seemingly fallen into. 

 

 

"I wasn't trying to lie to you. I didn't know what to say." The blonde said after a while and Sam could perfectly see, even from all the distance between them, that he had his eyes closed and his head hung low. The mere thought of Steve's head hung like that and guilt ion those baby blues made Sam feel bad about the way he had ripped into the blonde and he immediately softened his tone.

 

"How about you start by telling me where you are and where did you run off to after the museum?" he asked softly and could hear Steve inhale sharply at that. He waited for the blonde to start talking but he seemed to have started thinking something else again.

 

"Did he tell you about the museum?" he eventually asked, his voice soft in nostalgia and tone doused in surprise. Sam shook his head at his idiot of a friend and acquiesced immediately, not wanting to change tracks again in the conversation.

 

"Yeah. Now start talking, Rogers. No more bullshit."

 

And Steve did. He told Sam about the calls from his mom, how she always told him that they were either at a date or the freaking Grand Canyon or in some other place his father thought was romantic. He told Sam how he had seen his father across the street when they were walking down after lunch when he was supposed to be all the way up in Arizona. He confessed to Sam the shame he felt at being a bad son after seeing his mother and the shiner on her face. The talk with his mother, the showdown with Joseph, the absolutely mind-blowing sucker punch from Sarah and the subsequent crash down at the hotel.

 

After a small pause, where he seemingly mulled over something, Steve exhaled softly and told him about how he ended up back at Bucky's to finish off a ‘beautiful' 24 hours by screaming at Bucky and packing up his bags.

 

"I didn't know what to do with all this, Sam. My mom lied to me a number of times, I find out dad is still the asshole he always was, Bucky hid the fact that he knew about all my bullshit and I just snapped. Stood up to my father, said some very hateful things to my mother and just walked out on Bucky. I didn't know what to do." He sighed softly again and Sam's heart melted for the man.

 

He did understand why Steve did the things he did. It couldn't have been easy to know that your mom had been lying to you or that you had basically given away your life for a deal that hadn't been kept. He couldn't empathise with Steve's pain, the betrayal he felt or even the feeling of helplessness, but he did sympathise with the blonde. But he knew voicing that would get him in a fight with the blonde and that wasn't what he wanted.

 

"Why didn't you call me? I could've helped you, Steve. After everything that you've done for me, payback is fair."

 

"I can't stand any more pity; Sam. James has bestowed enough of that on me already." Sam doesn't point out how this isn't pitying, just help. But he notices the lack of bitterness in Steve statement, despite the content of it. He is expecting the bitterness, the anger, the outburst, but he's not ready for the absolutely tired tone Steve is using.

 

And he knows the reason for it too: James. And that's what he latches on to.

 

"Why do you think James did what he did out of pity? Couldn't it be because he wanted to help you?" he asks, his voice not giving away how dumb he thinks the assumption is, but he knows Steve knows anyway.

 

"He wanted to help me out of pity," Steve answers petulantly and Sam sighs part frustration, part exhaustion.

 

"Steve, I've known James a lot longer than you have. And if it is one thing you and James have in common, it is your utter hatred for pity. Neither of you can stand to take it nor give it. Why you would think such a man is pitying you, is beyond me."

 

"Why else would he help me, Sam? Why would he offer to be my friend, stay married to me despite being together with Pietro? Why would he offer me a place to call home?" Steve asks swiftly and it's like he's listing off things, one after the other.

 

Sam takes a deep breath again and massages his forehead lightly, thinking of a way to make the light shine on Steve's black hole of a head. He takes another deep breath again, holds it for a while and releases it when he feels himself calmer than before.

 

"Did you ever think it might be because he actually likes you? And genuinely wants to be your friend? Did you think that maybe you were not the only one in desperate need of a friend and a home? I hate to bring it up, Steve, but men coming home from war often search for these things without meaning to and I feel Bucky found them in you."

 

"He has Pietro for that. For a friend and home and whatever else he wants." And he finally finds the bitterness he was looking for. The note of something cold, not exactly disgust, but grief, fear. He smiles softly at his friend, who is nothing but afraid of rejection, and drops his tone till its soft and soothing, the one he generally reserves for the vets back at the VA and not his thick-headed friend.

 

"It's not the same and you know it. What a relationship provides and what a friend provides are two different things, Steve. Being in a relationship doesn't mean one doesn't need a friend and vice versa. Everybody can have both a friend and a partner, without one meaning any less than the other. Having Pietro doesn't make your place in his heart any less, Steve, he still cares for you and respects you."

 

"Oh, I'm sure I have a huge place in his heart."

 

Sam rubs his forehand again, an action he does more to give himself some time than due to any real damage to his head and goes about it a little differently.

 

"Did you know Bucky suffers from nightmares? And I'm not talking the mild ones either. I'm talking wake up and not know who you are and where you are nightmares. At the VA we always encourage them to call somebody close to them in case of a nightmare like that, somebody to talk you down, remind you of yourself. Despite suffering them almost every night, he's never once called, because he says that it is a minor thing and nobody deserves to lose sleep over it but him. Yet, he called me today, not to talk about a nightmare but to talk about you. He couldn't sleep because he had no idea where you were or if you were safe. Now, tell me, Steve, would a guy who only pretended to care about you out of pity, call? Would he lose sleep over this?"

 

Steve goes quiet for a while and Sam waits, knowing it can't be an easy to digest information of such magnitude. He gives Steve the time to think, to understand what it means and to see what he's been trying to get Steve to see. And he knows it can't be easy for Steve to see that Bucky cares, used to as he is to people treating him like he means nothing, but he really wants Steve to see he matters.

 

Not just for Bucky, but for Steve himself, he needs to know and understand that there are people in this world who care about him.

 

"No. No, he wouldn't." Steve admits after a while and Sam sighs in relief. But he knows not to celebrate yet, and continues asking Steve questions, tries to show Steve what he has seen: how much Bucky cares about Steve and now, how much Steve cares for him too.

 

"Then why is Bucky losing sleep? Bucky, who has a beautiful boyfriend he could be having fun with at night, is instead worried sick about you. Tell me, Steve, why is that?"

 

"Because he genuinely cares," Steve admits in a whisper and Sam thanks his lucky stars for it.

 

"And why is that?"

 

"I'm his friend."

 

"I couldn't hear you." He grins as he speaks and he knows Steve can hear it because he can hear the blonde's smile when he answers.

 

"Because I'm his friend."

 

"Bingo! So, now what are you going to do?" he questions excitedly and Steve outright laughs at him.

 

"Go see him tomorrow and apologise." He phrases it like a question but Sam knows it's more to tease him anything else. He nods before realising Steve can't see him and then continues in a more subdued tone.

 

"You have nothing to apologise for, Steve. But maybe it's time you guys drop these charades and start being honest with each other. So far all these lies have only hurt you."

 

"Yeah. Yeah, we will. Thanks, Sam. You're an amazing friend." Steve admits and Sam smiles shyly.

 

He considers saying goodbye and hanging up before his brain reboots with a start. There's no way this was this easy, there's no way Steve Rogers is just gonna agree with him and decide that Bucky's deception was not pity and apologise to him. It was never this easy with Steve and he didn't think one day away from Bucky was gonna make Steve a saint.

 

"Wait a minute, why is this so easy? Since when do you give up so easy? Steve, I hope you aren't just agreeing to this because you don't actually plan to go over to Bucky's tomorrow. This better not be another lie to get rid of me, Steve." his voice took on a hard edge as the thought crossed his mind, but he didn't relent even as he heard Steve huff a small laugh on the other side.

 

"No. I am not lying to you. I know you're right, Sam. Bucky isn't the only one who has lost sleep today. Maybe it was pity, maybe not, but I'm not sure I am any angrier at him than I am at myself. I should've been honest from the start." The blonde admits with a soft sigh and Sam feels bad forever assuming bad about him. He closes his eyes for a second and opens them only when he knows he's got the right questions to ask this time.

 

"If you're not sure it's pity, then why did you walk out, Steve? Why give him all that shit? And why wouldn't you pick up his call?"

 

"I had to leave because I had no reason to stay anymore, Sam. First, it was that dad forced us to get married, then it was that mom would get in trouble. Now, dad's not there, mom's safe and I'm out of a reason to continue living in his house. And…" Steve didn't complete the sentence, left it hanging in the silence between them. Sam could hear the embarrassment in the unspoken words, see how badly it had affected Steve and the absolute effort it took for him to even get till there.

 

He didn't want to push, didn't want Steve to feel further embarrassment, but some words couldn't be left unspoken. 

 

"And leaving's always easier when in anger than otherwise." He completes the blonde's statement and hears him sigh on the other end.

 

"Yeah."

 

"Jesus! You're a child, Rogers: emotionally constipated and never using your words. Did you ever think where you were gonna go? You walked out of two houses with your mother and no plan, Steve. What were you thinking?" Frustration gives way to exasperation and he slumps down in bed, weariness seeping into his very core from the worry coursing through his body. He doesn't have any right to be angry at Steve, but he's worried and tired and the exhaustion is finding an outlet in anger.

 

He took his own advice, inhaled deeply an exhaled it after holding it for a couple of seconds. He felt his pulse slow down but the stale tinge in his scent stayed the same, still worried beyond relief.

 

"That I could do this on my own. I don't need handouts, Sam. I can look after my mom and I." Steve wasn't yelling but his voice spoke in calm anger. He was challenging Sam, daring him to offer advice to the contrary, contradict Steve claims and Sam knew it. He didn't rise up to the bait, but he came pretty damn close.

 

"I am not giving you a handout, I'm questioning your decisions because so far you've got nothing to show for it. I know you don't like me pointing it out, but your mom and you are omegas, Steve, and I don't need to spell out to you the dangers that lurk in every corner for an omega. I'm not trying to alphasplain your dangers, but you know what I'm talking about. Think about it, are you gonna be okay without a roof over your head?" he could hear Steve's frustration on the other side: the rustle of sheets and the pitter patter of feet burning a hole in the carpet. He could hear Steve's breathing patterns change and knew that he would soon have to talk the omega down from possibly causing an asthma attack.

 

It was the last thing either of them wanted, even if Sam would be the only one to voice it.

 

"We can look after ourselves, Sam. We can take care of ourselves. We're at a hotel and I'm sure they have a good enough security system and some standards for their guests."

 

"And when you go into heat? Will the hotel take care of that too? Of the rabid alphas?" he challenges in return and hears Steve go quiet at the other end.

 

He isn't trying to scare Steve, but the blonde did need somebody reminding him time and again about his own needs. He didn't want Steve getting hurt and no matter how civilised the hotel was, Sam did not trust every person walking in and he knew Steve didn't either. He was looking out for his friend, he reminded himself, and not trying to scare him off.

 

"I…Sam…" the omega hesitated and Sam hurried to console him, save him from having to continue in that pathetic tone.

 

"Go home, Steve and you know which one I'm referring to. Don't put yourself in danger, please."

 

"And what? He will just take us in?" the omega rebuffs and Sam smiles softly into the darkness of his bedroom.

 

"Without pity and without feeling sorry. He'll take you guys in because he cares about you and wants you safe." he's got no doubts about it. Bucky will accept them, not just Steve but Sarah too. He'll welcome them both home with open arms and wide smiles and he is confident about it.

 

"I don't…I don't like handouts and people feeling sorry for me, Sam. I've never handled being handled and I don't think I could do it now." Steve confesses in a small voice and Sam is reminded of how young the blonde still is and what all atrocities he has experienced in such a short time. They say your experiences age you; hardships mature you beyond your age, but Sam had never believed them till he had seen Steve. Steve, a 20-year man, mature far beyond his age and yet too pure for the life he had led.

 

"This is not a handout but if it feels like one to you, you could always pay him rent for staying at his place. Don't take charity, but do except help. There's nothing wrong with taking help from friends who care about you."

 

"Thank you, Sam. You're like my guardian angel." The words were nothing above a breathy whisper and Sam chuckled softly, his eyes slipping closed from exhaustion now. He yawned softly and he heard Steve huff a smile at the other end.

 

"I know. Now please hang up, I've got to up in less than an hour and a half."

 

"Good night, Sam."

 

"Good night, Steve." he hung up the call and looked at the bedside clock again. Fluorescent green letters blinked back at him, and he groaned at their smug look. He had to be up in an hour and a half and he hadn't even slept all that well.

 

He could already tell how the rest of his day was gonna go. He was going to be running on no sleep and no coffee and it was going to a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day with minimum sleep and maximum work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reconciliation, here we come :))))


	17. Welcome Home, Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reconciliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the update is late. But, I have two excuses:
> 
> 1\. I am a stubborn asshole who never apologises and hence doesn't know how to do it. 
> 
> 2\. I was writing another story. It took more time than I anticipated and it messed up my schedule. 
> 
> PS: If anybody wants to read it, I'll be putting a link at the end.

**_22nd March 2020_ **

 

Steve stood in front of the place he had once called home, hesitating and rethinking. He raised his hand towards the bell multiple times but he couldn't bring himself to ring it even once. He took a deep breath, centered himself and lifted his hand to ring the bell again. He rang before he could chicken out again and immediately jumped back from the front step and onto the porch.

 

The urge to run coursed through him but he stamped it down. He wasn't going to put this off. He owed James an apology and he was going to do it. Steve Rogers did not run away from anything.

 

Not even the shame of standing at the doorstep of a man he had utterly humiliated himself in front of and then lashed out at.

 

"Steve…" James' eyes bulged out of his head as he opened the door and he blinked several times to make sure he was not dreaming. He opened and closed his mouth multiple times but no sound came out. He just stood there on the porch, staring at Steve as Steve hesitantly met his gaze.

 

James didn't look like he had slept a wink in the past few days. His eyes were red and accentuated by the black around them, his hair was standing in all directions like he had tossed and turned all night and his face lacked the glow it always had. His movements had a novel lethargy to it and it twisted the knife already embedded deep in Steve's gut.

 

 "Hey, James. May I come in?" he asked with a hesitant smile and James started as if he had just woken up from a stupor.

 

"Yeah, yeah, of course. I just didn't think you'd come back." He moved aside to let Steve in and closed the door as soon as they stepped inside. He turned towards Steve with a smile but Steve didn't smile back.

 

"I came back for my stuff." He said instead and Bucky's smile immediately dropped from his face. He stepped back immediately and gestured towards the drawing room with his thumb.

 

"Oh. I'll get out of your way then."

 

Before he could walk away from the omega, Steve grabbed his hand and stopped him. The alpha turned to look at Steve with a confused noise and inquisitive eyes and Steve met his gaze with an apologetic smile.

 

"James, I was kidding. It was a bad joke, sorry." He dropped the alpha's hand and dropped his gaze to the ground, unable to handle the guilt that stabbed at him every time he looked into James' exhausted eyes. Confusion still lingered in them and it was no surprise to Steve when Bucky took some time to frame his next question.

 

"Oh. Then why are you here?"

 

"Would you believe me if I said it was to apologise?" he raised his eyes to look at the alpha and was met with the blankest expression he had ever seen on James' expressive face. He tried sniffing the air to get a read on the alpha's emotions but the alpha's scent was neutral, unlike his slightly guilty and embarrassed vanilla.

 

"For what?" James asked him and for the first time, Steve heard the hope in his voice. His eyes shone a little and a little tiredness left his face.

 

"For screaming at you, walking out, ignoring your calls, overall just being a horrible human being." Steve clarified and James nodded. He walked into the living room and Steve followed. He gestured for Steve to sit on the couch and turned towards him with a small smile.

 

"Then I guess it's going to be a long one. I better put on coffee and tea."

 

"Thank you."

 

James smiled at him as he walked towards the kitchen and for the first time since he walked up to James' house, Steve was sure they were gonna be okay.

 

(*)

 

They sit on the couch, both on either end nursing their tea and coffee, sipping in silence and not meeting each other's eyes. It is not comfortable in any sense, too many unsaid words hanging in the air around them but Steve's glad that their scents are at least calmer than they were a while back. Even James' previously forced-neutral scent had finally stepped out of its bounds and was circling Steve's own with little doubt and some guilt of its own.

 

It's long after Steve's cup has gone empty that James speaks.

 

"Do you want me to start?" he questions softly, turning his body towards Steve and setting his cup down. His eyes are hopeful again and Steve mirrors his action by turning his body towards the brunet and placing his cup down. When he looks back at James, he knows his own eyes are a little happy and mirroring the hope in James' eyes. 

 

"James, you've got nothing to apologise for. You've been so kind and understanding and I thanked you for it by screaming at you. I'm the asshole who should apologise."

 

"That's not true. I played a part in deceiving you and not's fair. I let you go on lying about something you shouldn't have had to in the first place. I owe you an apology and I am not going to let you martyr yourself out of that. Understand?" James questions softly and Steve huffs a laugh at the brunet.

 

"I guess. But let me go first, I've got a lot more to apologise then you do." he shrugs and Bucky snorts in amusement. He shakes his head at the omega and collects both their cups of the table.

 

"It's not a competition, Steve, jeez, type A much?" he asks as he crosses the couch to put the cups in the kitchen and the blonde good-naturedly rolls his eyes with a smile.

 

"I am not apologising for that. Type A is who I am and I wear that badge with pride."

 

"Of course, you do." the alpha agrees from the kitchen and they both chuckle at that.

 

Bucky makes his way back to the kitchen and Steve can still see him wear a grin that mirrors his own.

 

And it's very tempting to leave the whole discussion at that. They're both smiling, laughing and joking with each other. They're both obviously over whatever fight they were having. Steve knows it's not over until they discuss the whole issue, talk it out, apologies, but it seems more appealing to leave the discussion and to just pick up their friendship where they left off. James' obviously not got any hard feelings towards Steve. He's cracked jokes, even better ones than Steve has, he's laughed along with Steve, made fun of him and invited him back with a cup of amazing black coffee. Rehashing and opening old wounds at this point sounds like a mistake and Steve's not entirely convinced he wants to do that.

 

Maybe they can leave their entire argument in the past. Maybe they can move past it without acknowledging it. Maybe they don't have to talk about it.

 

He looks over at James and sees him looking back at Steve. He's giving Steve an out and Steve knows it. He's leaving it up to the blonde to decide if he wants to go through with the whole apologising thing. And if Steve was unsure before, he knows for sure the moment he looks at James. He needs to apologise. He was wrong in how he handled the situation and he knows it and it's his duty to apologise. And he's going to, because, James deserves it. Kind, gentle, compassionate James deserves a goddamn apology for the way Steve has treated him and he's going to get one.

 

"I am sorry, James. I'm sorry for lying to you about my horrible father, I'm sorry for screaming at you and storming out. I'm sorry for not picking up your calls and for not letting you know where I was and that I was safe. I am sorry for thinking you were like all other knot-head alphas and for walking out on you and not giving you a chance to explain. I have no excuses to make for myself and putting the blame on you for everything was and is a cowardly move and I'm not going to resort to it. Please, tell me how I can make it better and I will. I repent my actions but please let me atone for it too."

 

He doesn't mention that he was angry at James for what his father had done to his mother. It hadn't been Bucky's fault but Steve had treated it as such because otherwise the only person he can blame is himself and he's not ready to get into that just yet. That self-bashing can come later, in the dark of the night under the safety of his blanket.

 

"Steve, I genuinely don't feel like you have anything to atone for or even repent. We both get equal blame in this. I had no reason to keep my knowledge of your affairs a secret and neither should I have hidden my encounter with your father. You had a right to know these things by my own condition that we tell each other things that concern the other, and I didn't tell you. I broke a prerequisite condition of our marriage and you shouldn't be the one apologising for it." the alpha implores and he shifts a little closer to the blonde. He looks into Steve's eyes as he speaks but Steve finds it difficult to maintain eye contact with him. He shifts uncomfortably on the couch and looks anywhere but at James, as he speaks- confesses.

 

"James…going by that very condition, when have I been honest with you? I told you this marriage wouldn't happen. I think it's safe to go as far as to say that I promised you that we wouldn't have to get married to each other. I told you I could handle my father and I broke that promise. And I didn't even tell you the truth about that. I lied to you at the coffee shop and I lied to you every day after that. You may have kept quiet about a few details, but I straight up lied to you about them. I had no room to accuse you of lying when I've been doing it ever since we met. Let me make amends. Please." He looks at the alpha as he pleads the last word and James nods, a minute movement, as he thinks deeply.

 

"You could always tell me why. Why did you lie, Steve? Why did you think lying to me was better than being honest and straightforward?" he asks after a while and Steve knew this was coming.

 

He was prepared to answer this, prepared to tell James the whole truth. He was sure it wasn't going to be easy, he wasn't even sure he would be able to, but the moment he looks into James' soft grey eyes, the moment he gets a sniff of the air that smells like hope and a little concern, he knows this is going to be the easiest confession of his life.

 

"I don't like getting pitied. Every time anybody has realised that my mom and I aren't the happiest people in the world, they've always taken to coddling and pitying us. Mrs. Gerrish, our next-door neighbour, Mrs. Pattinson, my teacher, Dr. Harris, everybody thinks we need somebody to look after us and spoon feed us because we're omegas. My mom and I don't need pity, hell we didn't need help either. We could get by just fine by ourselves but they never agreed. Omegas need help, omegas don't survive alone, omegas are made to be taken care of, all bullshit that one could possibly hear, we've heard. I couldn't stand it if you would've jumped in to play my knight in shining armour if you knew. I don't need you to be my muscle or a knight in shining armour, James, just being my friend was fine and I thought hiding the truth about my father would do that. Guess that backfired." He added bitterly and turned away from kind grey eyes.

 

James didn't say anything for a while and Steve had to turn back to look at him. The alpha was staring intently at the carpet, searching for answers to questions Steve didn't know in the woven cloth, and it wasn't till Steve started shifting uncomfortably on the couch that Bucky broke out of his reverie.

 

"When I saw your father at the supermarket, I didn't fight for your honour as you seem to think. I respected your father a lot, Steve, he was like a father to me too. He adored me when we served together in Afghanistan and he loved me so much he jumped in front of a bullet for me. He saved my life and I worshipped him for it, saluted him despite him being my junior in command." The alpha lifted his head to lock eyes with Steve then and the omega didn't shy away from it this time. He moved closer to James as the alpha stopped and placed a hesitant hand on his tanned hand.

 

The touch seemed to spur James on.

 

 "They say never meet your heroes and that is what happened when I came to meet Joseph. My hero was a bigoted piece of shit who loved me for the sole reason that I was an alpha who had served with him. Had I been an omega, he would've never loved me, he wouldn't have saved my life, hell! he wouldn't even have given me an ounce of respect. All I did to deserve a place in his good books was present as an alpha. Just knowing that broke me. I felt so ashamed for not seeing the kind of man he was and for ever respecting a man like that. Such men don't deserve respect, they deserve a boot to the face and ass. When I saw him at the supermarket, he called me his son and all my frustration just broke out. I was his son because I was an alpha and nothing else. I did stand up for you but it was more to see him get angry than to ‘protect your honour'. I just wanted to hurt him; I didn't know it would end up hurting you too."

 

They both sit quietly in the aftermath of the confession; James having said his piece and Steve not knowing how to react to it. There are so many things Steve ought to say here: about how Sarah suffered the consequences of James' outburst, about how he should've thought before he spoke and how he just suffered weeks of what Steve went through for years of his life. He should say all those things but he doesn't say any.

 

Because James didn't know Joseph would hurt Sarah on his behalf. Because James didn't know how cruel Joseph could be. Because James didn't know that Joseph was the worst piece of scum to walk the earth and it wasn't his fault Joseph handled his insecurities and fears by lashing out on others.

 

Much like Steve had done, he self-reflects bitterly. 

 

"Why didn't you tell me you knew all this about me? Why didn't you tell me I was making a fool of myself all this time?" he asks after a while, his hand still a spot of warmth over James' hand. The alpha doesn't seem to mind, so Steve leaves it there, for his own strength.

 

 

"You weren't ready to talk, Steve. It doesn't take a genius to know you'd rather keep all this to yourself than ever talk about this, and I didn't want you to walk out on me because I forced you to talk about something you didn't like. I understand when you say you can't stand pity, I can't either. And trust me as a vet with only one human arm, I've seen a lot of pity. Even the barista at the coffee shop would offer to give me tea on the house every time he saw me." he laughs bitterly in self-pity and Steve decides that the morbid mood had gone on long enough.

 

He rubs little circles on James' hand till the alpha looks at him and then proceeds to keep a straight face as he speaks. 

 

"Maybe it's not the arm, you know, it's the face. Even I would take pity on a guy born with a face like that." He gestures to James' objectively beautiful face and throws in a wink for good measure. The alpha laughs like it's forced out of him and then continues laughing till tears appear in the corner of his eyes. Steve joins him because his laugh is infectious and also because the blush on his cheeks is too adorable.

 

"Anyway, the point remains that I've never treated you with any pity, Steve. Whatever I've ever done, I've done because I genuinely like you and I would really like to be your friend." James adds after he's calmed down and the mood is light but not somber.

 

"The friendship, the promise of home, were they not piteous? Did you mean them? Even if I would've been just Steve Rogers and not Steve Rogers, son of Joseph Rogers?"

 

"My friendship and our home is only for Steve Rogers and not for Steve Rogers, son of Joseph the asshole," James states with conviction and it's Steve's chance to blush and nod.

 

He doesn't deserve this guy and he knows it. Doesn't deserve his friendship, his companionship, his forgiveness and above all a place in his home. But he's got to ask, not for himself but for his mother, for their safety. It feels an awful lot like taking advantage, coming back and apologising when he needs a place to crash and he hopes James doesn't see it that way. He doesn't know what he will do if James thinks like that, but he has to ask.

 

Because he knows his decision to apologise to James was not based on a need for shelter, it still is not. Even if James says they can't live here, Steve would understand, wouldn't even berate him for it, because he knows he fucked up. But he needs to ask, he needs to know what James has to say and for that, he needs to say the words out loud. Ask James for a place in his home. 

 

"I…May I…the house…home…" he splutters and stutters and James watches with a small smile as Steve struggles. After watching in amusement for a while he opens his mouth and Steve thinks he's gonna help him.

 

"I'm waiting, Steve and I'm not getting any younger." He doesn't help and Steve rolls his eyes at James' effort.

 

"Oh, you fucking asshole! You know what I'm asking. Help me out here."

 

"Then you're gonna say it's pity. I'm not taking any chances." The brunet answers with a grin and Steve's answer is to pout.

 

"James…" he whines childishly and James' attention snaps to his face. The brunet narrows his eyes at the blonde and Steve pulls back a little at the serious look on the alpha's face.

 

"Why have you been calling me James?"

 

"You said your friends call you James and I wasn't sure that after my performance last night, I was still a friend," Steve admits with a soft sigh and he feels James move closer to him on the couch. The brunet places his metal arm on the hand Steve's got resting on his flesh arm and moves it so he's holding both of Steve's hands in his own. He waits till Steve looks up from their joined hands to his face and smiles ruefully at the young blonde.

 

"Of course, Stevie, you're still my friend. Till the day you explicitly tell me you don't want to be." He tells him softly and a huge weight lifts itself off Steve's chest. He smiles with barely concealed relief and he sees Bucky's smile soften in turn.

 

The alpha cradles Steve's hand in his own and it gives Steve the push he needed to ask the question he wanted.

 

"Can I have my room back, Buck? And I want to pay rent for it too because I don't like the idea of being indebted to anybody." He asks it all in one hurried breath and barely catches his breath back before Bucky's eyebrows are reaching his hairline.

 

"You've been living here for weeks, Stevie, why are you asking again?"

 

"My mom punched Joseph in the face and walked out. She…" he hesitates and Bucky rushes in to fill the silence.

 

"Well, finally I can put that third bedroom to good use. But, I'm gonna warn you, Steve, you're helping me clean it. And please, Sarah's rent is on me." he states and Steve's shakes his head immediately.

 

"Buck, I can't ask you to do that."

 

"Steve, the last time I saw her, she asked me to call her ma. And what kind of son charges rent from his ma?" he questions with soft eyes and a softer smile and it makes Steve's breath catch for different reasons.

 

Sarah asked Bucky to call her ma? He had always had a suspicion when his mom had disappeared at the courthouse but now he knows where she was. He can feel a hysterical laugh bubble inside him and he fights hard to control it. His ma…she had always been smarter than him for sure. And she had always looked out for him too.

 

The second reason…Bucky Barnes…

 

"She did, huh? She works faster than me," he admits with a self-deprecating smile and Bucky smiles wider in return.

 

"Yeah, she does."

 

They sit in companionable silence for a while, hand in hand before Bucky takes a deep breath and draws Steve's attention towards him. The smile he gives Steve lacks his normal confidence and Steve invariable draws a deep breath of his own in return.

 

The tinge of worry in dark chocolate scent does not sit right with him.

 

"Steve, there was another thing I needed to talk to you about."

 

"Should I be worried?" he asks with a small chuckle, his failed attempt at diffusing the tension that seems to have settled between them again, but Bucky shakes his head, the smile on his face disappearing completely.

 

"No, I think you'd be happy. It's about the divorce. I think it's time we end this, right? Joseph's out of the picture, Sarah's safe, you're happy, and the deal is off. I think it's finally time to end our pretend marriage."

 

And Steve stops breathing.

 

He knows they were not married in the conventional sense. He knows they were going to go down this road sooner rather than later. He knows he's the one who demanded the divorce yesterday, gave the same goddamn reasons. He knows Bucky's right and it's the right thing to do. He knows they should do it; he knows they need to split, he knows, he knows, he knows…

 

He knows every goddamn reason it's the right thing to do but he doesn't know why his heart aches at the mere thought of separation.

 

He was never together with Bucky in the first place. They were not a couple; they were never anything beyond friends. Then why does the thought of being divorced from Bucky hurting him so? Why is the fear of separation, of distance, hurting him so much?

 

Even though they're still gonna be living together after the divorce, it hurts and Steve doesn't want to know why anymore…

 

"Buck…is this about what I said yesterday?" he asks eventually, burying his own confusing thoughts inside and concentrating on the alpha's tensed face.

 

"Partly. We started this wrong. People start as friends and some make their way towards marriage but we did it in reverse. It's time to start fresh, Steve, no more blurred lines and half-assed relations. And this time, I wanna do it right. I want us to be honest with each other, Stevie. What do you think?"

 

"I think…it's a good idea, Buck. Let's do that. Let's get divorced and start fresh." He gives the brunet a smile that feels plastic on his face and sees a relieved and completely genuine smile stretch across Bucky's face.

 

"You know, Natasha's pretty good at setting people up if you're interested? It doesn't even take her much time. It's like she carries around a book with people she can set everybody up with. Pretty sure your name is on the list." Bucky tells him playfully and Steve shakes his head with a rueful smile.

 

"Thanks for the offer, Buck, but no. I've just escaped my abusive father; I've got to find a place for my mom and myself and I'm not feeling like the best version of myself lately. I don't think this is an ideal time for me to date. Let me get back on my feet, find a place for my ma and I, work on myself first, then we'll see about a relationship. And not to forget, I'm also going to be going through a divorce soon, it's not going to be easy."

 

"Steve, I didn't mean to spring the divorce on top of everything else. I genuinely thought it was something you wanted and I… we don't have to if you wanna wait. I'm in no hurry, Stevie, whatever works best for you."

 

And isn't that just twisting the knife? Even after everything Steve's sprung on him, Bucky's worried about displeasing him. Steve's the one who demanded the divorce, who walked out on him, gave him sleepless nights, but trust Bucky to still make sure Steve's happy and comfortable.

 

And he wants to hate that. He wants to hate the fact that the alpha is so thoughtful, so considerate, so…good, but he can't, he doesn't. After growing up with his father, an absolute asshole of an alpha, who mistreated his mother and him just for being omegas, getting to know an alpha like Bucky was surprising. What had started out as Steve's wonderment about a non-bigoted alpha has now become Steve's amazement at Bucky.

 

_"Don't get too attached, Steve. You don't have a place in that dream and that dream did not end with you. James still wants that and you should remind yourself of that. Don't fall where there's no one to catch you."_

 

Sam's words echo in his head and Steve shakes the thoughts away. He's not falling. He's not attached. Bucky is just another friend like Sam is and Steve knows that. There's something special about Bucky, but he's not special to Steve.

 

 

"No, no, Buck. I asked for it, didn't I? That was a joke. It's important that we get rid of these blurred lines between us and start fresh, right at the beginning. And you have Pietro, so you can't say there's no rush." He says it to remind himself more so than Bucky.

 

Pietro and blurred lines. Lines Steve can't cross, won't cross.

 

"Stevie, Pietro is in no hurry to get married and neither am I. I wanna enjoy our relationship a little and also, I've got a friend I've to educate. Dude hasn't even seen Brooklyn 99 yet. Total dork!" Bucky says in an exaggerated whisper and Steve forgets all about his inner dilemmas in the face of the teasing.

 

"Fuck you too, Barnes." He shoves at the alpha and the alpha doubles over in laughter.

 

"I never said it was you. Did you just assume you're the dork? Are you a dork?"

 

"Blah, blah, blah." Steve poorly imitates Bucky and makes exaggerated faces at the brunet. Bucky pulls out his phone from his pocket and holds it in front of Steve's face, his eyes still watery from laughing and scent like freshly made chocolate.

 

"Very mature, Stevie, very mature. Do it again so I can show it to Sam too."

 

"Shut up," Steve grumbles good-naturedly and Bucky puts the phone down. He moves a little closer to Steve and drops his voice a little low.

 

"It's just a suggestion and you don't have to take it if you don't want to, but maybe a therapist would help you feel like the best version of yourself and help deal with the issues your father left behind. Not just for you, but ma too, Stevie. You both have suffered years of abuse and therapy would be a healthy way to deal with it. If you're averse to therapy, at least talk to Sam. He's a perfect two in one, friend and therapist option. It's just a suggestion, you're free to take it or leave it."

 

"I'll think about it," Steve tells him even though he knows he's not going. He can't sit in therapy and dwell on his feelings, not when he has spent a lifetime suppressing them. His thoughts are his greatest enemies and Steve's not going to open the many, many can of worms he's buried deep inside himself. It's a risk he's not willing to take.

 

But Sarah…he wants his mom to go. He wants her to talk about all she has gone through and find her peace. He wants her to be happy and finally free of the mental shackles her husband has put her in all these years. He wants her to fight her demons in the care of somebody who knows how to help her.

 

He'll talk to her about it and he will convince her to go. For her own sake…  

 

"Okay." Bucky replies and something in his tone tells Steve he knows that Steve is never going to therapy. But he doesn't push and Steve's once again beyond grateful to him.

 

He doesn't know what comes over him, what happens then, but he launches himself into Bucky's arms. The brunet catches him immediately, his own arms wrapping around Steve's bony back as the omega clutches the back of his t-shirt and buries his face in Bucky's chest.

 

"Buck…thank you. For everything you've done and everything, you're doing. I don't know how to thank you and just saying it is probably not enough but it's all I got." He barely holds back tears as he thanks the alpha and tightens his hold on his shirt.

 

"Welcome home, Stevie," Bucky tells him softly and a wet chuckle escapes Steve without his permission.

 

He knows Bucky means the house, maybe his company, maybe both. But home to Steve, at that moment, feels a lot like Bucky's arms…

 

"It's good to be back."

 

"Steve, if you don't know how to thank me, you could always draw me like your French girl." Bucky teases him softly and Steve's so glad he doesn't prolong the heavy moment. He laughs into Bucky's t-shirt and doesn't let go even as he curses the brunet.

 

"Fuck you, Barnes. Fuck you."

 

"You wish you could, Stove." The alpha ribs back and Steve doesn't find solace in the fact that he's starting to actually wish so…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stevie's in love and denial. My favorite combo 😜 
> 
> My new fic 👇  
> All of Me, Loves All of You
> 
>  
> 
> It's a Stucky one shot with ace Steve and gay Bucky with unhealthy amounts of angst and nicknames


	18. Pancakes and Boys, Together Make Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a regular day at the Barnes residence. Pancakes, banter and Sarah questioning her life choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly just a filler chapter but it was fun to write. 
> 
>  
> 
> IMPORTANT:  
> STUCKY IS THE ENDGAME AND IT IS GONNA BE A MONOGAMOUS RELATIONSHIP. IT'S JUST A REALLY SLOW BURN :)

**_25th March 2020_ **

Sarah wasn't expecting anybody in the kitchen till about another 15 minutes. She took a sip from her coffee, smiled and hummed to herself as she moved about the kitchen. Bucky had told her to stay out of the kitchen, requested her even, but she had refused his offers. She was already living in his home; she couldn't make him do all the work too.

 

She mixed the pancake batter while humming to herself and almost missed the boy entering the kitchen, wiping remaining sleep from barely open eyes and hair a hornet's nest.

 

"Good morning, Mrs. Rogers. I hope you slept well." Pietro wished her as he sat down at the table and she smiled at the well-mannered kid.

 

She had been a little surprised, maybe a little appalled when Bucky had introduced Pietro as his boyfriend but a small chat with the beta had put all her doubts and questions to rest. She already knew about the terms and conditions of Steve marriage with Bucky, but she wasn't sure about Pietro as a match for the alpha. But he proved her wrong spectacularly.

 

He was sweet and soft spoken, well mannered and respectful, good looking and equally charming. She could see why Bucky was taken with him and she could also see herself start to really love the boy.

 

"How many times do I have to tell you, Pietro, that's its either Sarah or ma? Call me Mrs. Rogers again and you can forget the pancakes." She shook a wooden spoon at him, a mock stern expression on her face and lips pursed and he immediately seemed a lot more awake and excited.

 

"There's pancakes for breakfast? That's amazing Mr- Sarah. Now that's a good morning!" he cheered enthusiastically and Sarah laughed softly at the boy's eagerness.

 

"I am glad you think so, Pietro. There's coffee for you if you drink that."

 

"Of course. I'm no ET like Bucky," he replied with a wink and made his way to the coffee pot. He poured himself a cup and was immediately back in his seat, slumped down on the table and cradling the cup like it was something precious.

 

Sarah could hardly hold back the fondness in her eyes.

 

"Good morning, ma. Hello, Pietro. Wow! You look dead on your feet." Steve commented as soon as he entered the kitchen and Sarah sighed exasperatedly at her rude son. Steve gave her a little kiss, a half-assed apology, as he made his way to the coffee pot and poured himself a tall cup of the brew. 

 

"I could sleep for another two years and it won't be enough. I'm only here for the pancakes." Pietro grumbled from his spot at the table and Steve laughed as he made his way over.

 

"A fellow coffee enthusiast, I see. I was so worried you'd be like Bucky. Tea only." He mimicked the brunet at the end and both the blondes chuckled at that.

 

"The one fatal flaw. But it's good, you know, otherwise, he might've been unstoppable. Doesn't even drink coffee and is still out running. I think he's secretly ET." Pietro stage whispers to Steve and Steve leans down conspiringly, his voice pitched dramatically low. 

 

"You know what, that might actually help explain some peculiarities. Goes running at ass o clock in the morning, doesn't drink tea, is too decent a human being and such."

 

"Too handsome too. And can speak more than one language."  Pietro adds as he downs the last dregs of his coffee and Steve leans forward in his seat in excitement.

 

"He speaks more than one language? Which language?" he asks in a hurry, his voice hurried in excitement, and Sarah shakes her head at the two boys.

 

Seeing Steve with Pietro makes her heart hurt a little. Steve's obviously having fun with the younger blonde, likes him too and it makes Sarah fill with guilt about never having given her son a sibling to play with. Steve's good with kids, has always been. She's seen him babysit the neighborhood kids, has seen him fiercely protect the younger kids on the playground, has seen him stand up for every baby when she got pregnant but never had them. She's seen him shed tears for every sibling he's lost and love the next one equally as fiercely.

 

She never stood up for them the way he did and they both paid the price for it. For too long too.

 

"Да. Ich spreche vier Sprachen. Anglais, français, Russe et allemande." Bucky's voice comes from the entryway and she's brutally snatched from her terrible thoughts. She shakes her head to clear it and smiles at the stunned faces both the blondes at the table make.

 

"Good morning ma, Stevie, sunshine. You guys talking about me again? I'm flattered." He smirks at them both and makes his way to Sarah with a plate.

 

"Please don't be. We don't need you getting a bigger head than you already do." Steve quips from the table and Sarah fixes her son with a glare that he promptly chooses to ignore.

 

"James has got a perfect sized head on equally perfect shoulders. Have some pancakes, dear." She puts some pancakes on to his plate and he smiles his most charming smile at her.

 

"Thank you, ma. You're the best." He pecks her cheek and sits down at the table, next to Pietro. Sarah turns back to make more pancakes when Steve's incredulous voice comes through.

 

"Betrayed by my own mother! Et tu, ma?"

 

"And what did I do, Steve?" she questions him with barely concealed mirth and hears him splutter disbelievingly.

 

"Pietro and I came before him. Why's he getting pancakes before us?"

 

"Don't worry about it, Steve. That's just the way it is. All women love him, young, old, dead. It's just the way the world is. You get used to it after some time." Pietro tells him in a weary tone and Sarah starts chuckling at how put upon the young boy sounds with all of Bucky's charmed women. She's laughing but she still doesn't miss the way Bucky leans closer to Pietro and croons lovingly in his ear.

 

"Only the women huh, sweetheart? What about you?" he asks sweetly and Sarah strains to hear Pietro's reply but it gets overshadowed by Steve's voice.

 

"You hear that, ma? You're not the first and you won't be the last again." He tells her with all the conviction of a public prosecutor accusing a convict and she sighs at Steve's conviction. She turns around to raise a questioning eyebrow at Bucky but the brunet just gives her a confident smile in return.

 

"Women may come and women may go, but ma is forever. Aren't I right, ma?" he asks her with a smile and she smiles fondly at the alpha.

 

There are things she can read on Bucky's face, things he's searching for and things she knows he desperately needs. She can see how much he wants a mother, needs the motherly love and affection, craves the soft rebuke and tender discipline. She can see how he lost his parents' too young, can still see a teenager who's lost and alone. Steve can question her partial treatment of Bucky, can question why she's so charmed by him, but what he doesn't know can't hurt him. And she's not gonna be the one to tell him all that she sees.

 

Bucky needs a mother and as long as Sarah's around, he was gonna have one.

 

"Of course, Bucky. Steve, stop whining. Here are your pancakes." She puts a plate in front of Steve and another in front of Pietro and ruffles their hair as she does so. They both give her matching smiles and she returns the action in kind.

 

"That's not even how the poem goes. Thanks, ma."

 

"Nerd." Bucky retorts as Steve stuffs a pancake in his mouth and Steve glares at the brunet till he swallows his mouthful.

 

"Fuck you." He finally replies as his mouth is cleared enough to speak and she sees Pietro wrinkle his nose when Steve speaks with his mouth still full.

 

"Steve, language." Sarah admonishes gently as she flips another pancake and she hears Bucky join her from the table.

 

"Yeah, Steve, language. There's a lady present."

 

"Oh, you demon! As if you aren't a potty-mouthed jerk."

 

"Me? Never!" the brunet even splays his hand on his chest for extra dramatic effect and Sarah joins Steve and Pietro as they laugh at the comedic expression on Bucky's face.

 

"Jerk!" Steve whispers fondly. "By the way, why didn't you wake me? I thought we were going walking together." He questions as he puts another bite into his mouth and Bucky waits till he swallows his own mouthful before he replies.

 

"I did try to wake you but you were sleeping like the dead. Apparently, it's ‘sleep till the cows come home day' in the under 21 city."

 

"Oh, screw you!" Steve retorts immediately and Pietro starts laughing from where he's sitting at Bucky's side.

 

Bucky turns to Pietro with an adorable pout but Pietro doesn't stop laughing, even as he gives Bucky's a small kiss on the forehead.

 

"How does he manage to make us feel bad about being young?" Steve questions Pietro as the blonde manages to calm himself and the younger blonde leans forward in his seat and lowers his voice.

 

"It's because he's ET."

 

Steve laughs as Sarah gets herself a plate and sits down next to Steve.

 

"So do the young ones have a plan for the day or am I gonna come home to a fire in the backyard and a missing door?"

 

"That was one time! I can't believe you're still holding that over me. C'mon ma!" Steve implores and she sees Bucky perk up in excitement, his eyes twinkling and ears on attention.

 

"Wait! What? Ma, you've got to tell us. Tell me, tell me. Please."

 

"Later. Tell me what are your plans." She tells him with a grin and the brunet slumps back in his chair with the barest of pouts.

 

"Piet's tired, so we're gonna stay in. He's gonna sleep all day and I'll try to get him to wake up for at least lunch and some water. I'll binge watch Brooklyn 99."

 

"Haven't you already seen that show?" Steve questions with a smile and Bucky scowls at him in return.

 

"So?"

 

"Never mind, you nerd."

 

"Somebody once told me they like nerds," Bucky smirks back at Steve and Sarah watches in amazement as her son's face turns the lightest shade of red. She continues watching as Steve turns red by the second, till he finally finds his bearing and mouths "Fuck you" back at Bucky which makes the brunet cackle in amusement.

 

It's weird seeing Steve blush. She's sure she's never seen it before.

 

"I am gonna visit Sam. I haven't seen him in a long time. He might be missing me too much." Steve says, ignoring Bucky's less than savoury reaction to Steve's reprimand, and turns towards Sarah. 

 

"Sure!" Bucky taunts.

 

"Of course." Pietro joins in.

 

"Steve, will you be home for lunch?" Sarah questions her son as she ignores the boys and Steve shakes his head.

 

"Don't think so, ma."

 

"Okay. I've got to get to the hospital so I'll see you boys in the evening, okay?" she gets up from the table and walks over to the sink to put her dish down. The boys follow her one after the other and she smiles at each one of them as they wish her a good day at work and thank her for breakfast.

 

"I'll handle dinner, ma, don't worry about it," Bucky tells her as he bends down to put his plate into the dishwasher and Sarah cups his face in her hand as she voices her gratitude.

 

"Thank you so much, Bucky. You're an angel."

 

"He's ET." Steve and Pietro chorus from the table and she barely has time to blink before the boys are all running out of the kitchen, screams,and shouts as Bucky chases the two idiot blondes who think he's ET.

 

Sarah's pretty sure she's gonna come home to a fire and broken glassware.

 

(*)

Sam glanced at the clock as he moved across his drawing room to the door and narrowed his eyes at the numbers that showed just past 11. He wasn't expecting any guests and he really wasn't in the mood to entertain any neighbours. He sighed in fear of a lazy afternoon gone bad and threw open his door with all the lack of concern he could afford to give the person on the other side.

 

He soon regretted that because he really cared about the person on the other end.

 

"Steve! my man. Long time, no see. I was starting to think you forgot me." he grinned at the blonde and ushered him in. Steve smiled back at him in a similar fashion and threw himself on to the couch with the barest hint of grace.

 

"Oh, I wish! But you're like a nightmare, I just can't seem to forget you."

 

"Is that why you're gracing me with your face so early in the day?" Sam questioned with a smirk, his scent singing at the sight of his best friend. He took a seat next to Steve, far more gracefully than Steve had and turned to look at his friend.

 

"It's almost noon." The blonde deadpanned and Sam copied his expression.

 

"Still too early to see your face."

 

"Shut up!" the blonde grumbled and his face split into a smile that mirrored on Sam's face. He playfully punched Steve's arm and folded his legs underneath himself.

 

"So, why are you here? Is this a friendly visit or is it just that you want me to buy you pizza for lunch?"

 

"Pizza for lunch and a friendly visit. Can't I just come to see my best friend for no reason?" Steve asked with an innocent smile and Sam punched the air in excitement.

 

"Aw, I knew I was your best friend. Suck it, Barnes! Anyway, speaking of Barnes, how are things going at tu casa? No more fights so that you both can wake me up at three?" he asks with an exaggerated eyebrow waggle and Steve laughs at the sight.

 

"That was one time and no, we're okay."

 

"My sleep schedule thanks you. What pizza do you want?" he asks as he pulls his phone out and Steve smiles innocently again, too innocently in Sam's opinion.

 

"Pineapple."

 

"Steve, I know you're kidding, but on the off chance you aren't, I implore you to reconsider." He even does the puppy dog eyes, screw him, but he can't eat pineapple pizza and he knows Steve's just doing it to spite him. Steve gives him the look that he only ever seems to give Sam and the bullies on the street, one that means he's evil as fuck and the worst thing to happen to them, and then does his dumb thinking face again.

 

"Okay, since you begged so gracefully, I'll take a meat lovers pizza with extra cheese. And a cheese burst crust. And a giant soda. And ask them if they have any dessert options."

 

"Where's all this going?" Sam asks gesturing to Steve stick thin body and Steve smiles at him with barely concealed glee and mischief. "And I know you're ordering all this because I'm paying. Wait till it's your turn, I'm gonna order all their pizzas." He threatens the omega with a smile and Steve's smile turns more devious than before as if that was even possible.

 

"Wait! That's a great idea. I want all their pizzas, in all sizes and a dozen large sodas. Please, and thank you." He smiles politely (absolutely fake, in Sam's opinion, he never means those smiles) and steals one of Sam's throw pillows to cuddle into. He looked all innocent and pure, with his big, dumb, blue eyes and golden hair, but Sam knew that asshole was fucking with him.

 

But nobody ever believed him, the perks of being Steve's best friend.

 

"Fuck you, Rogers!" he retaliated because he had to, okay? Otherwise, Steve Rogers grows too powerful.

 

"I am hurt." The blonde even does the dramatic ‘hand splaying on chest' action and Sam throws a throw pillow at his dumb, blonde head.

 

"You should be. Now I'm going to place the order, put something on Netflix. And I swear to god Steve, if I see some weird ass documentary, I'll throw you out immediately."

 

"Aye, aye, captain!" Steve fake salutes him and Sam knows it's going to something bad.

 

He comes back after placing the order to Steve reading the description on the Ted Bundy tapes. He glares at Steve but the omega just stares back with a challenging smirk and a dare in his eyes, putting Sam on the spot. Sam could change it and put on something else, but he knows it would mean the blonde won.

 

And you can't let Steve Rogers get too powerful.

 

So, he doesn't say anything and the two best friends sit down to watch Ted Bundy.

 

It's somewhere towards the end of episode one that their pizzas arrive. Sam gets up to take the rider, pay and then sits back down with the pizzas in his lap. Steve reaches for his own box, snatches a slice from Sam's and then turns back towards the screen like he's didn't just commit the worst crime in Bro-Laws: pizza snatching!

 

Sam stares at the back of his head but the blonde doesn't even shift uncomfortably and eventually, Sam gives up too.

 

By the second episode, it gets too hard to digest the pizza while listening to the horrible things Ted did. Sam starts feeling queasy but Steve's already abandoned his pizza and is staring at the remote longingly.

 

They look at each other for a second, Steve's eyes pleading with Sam to change the horrible show and put on something a bit more appealing, but Sam doesn't budge. He smirks at Steve and his obvious and self-earned discomfort and relaxes back on the sofa.

 

He even takes a bite of pizza just to show Steve how unaffected he is. (He isn't, but he can lie.)

 

Eventually, Steve's stubbornness runs out and he changes it to Iron Man. Sam squeals excitedly and the two best friends exchange excited looks. Finally, something they can both get behind.

 

Superhero movies and Robert Downey Jr.

 

Superhero movies had always been Sam's favourite growing up. He loved the Superman series, the incredible hulk movies and the multiple renditions of Spiderman. He had never been partial towards anyone studio and loved both DC and Marvel equally. He had even forgiven them for Green Lantern and Fantastic Four respectively.

 

It had been one of the interests he shared with Riley too. The alpha loved comic books movies as much as Sam did and it had been somewhat of a cornerstone for their relationship. They had had so many plans for so many movies…

 

Iron Man had been their first date.

 

Lost in the nostalgia and RDJ's exemplary acting, Sam doesn't notice the first signs of Steve's distress. He doesn't notice the cheerful vanilla scent turning sour nor does he notice Steve's fingers moving aimlessly over Sam's afghan. He doesn't notice Steve's attention slip from the movie and he doesn't notice Steve's attention turn towards him until the blonde speaks.

 

"Do you think therapy will be good for ma?" he questions suddenly and Sam turns around fast enough to give himself whiplash. He stares at the blonde for a couple of seconds, notices the things he missed earlier and shifts a little closer to the distressed omega.

 

"Yes, I really do. She's undergone years of abuse, mental, physical and emotional, and it will be really good for her to go for therapy. It'll really help her, Steve." he tells him gently but without any coddling. Steve will lash out if he even thinks there's any babying going on and he can't have that right now.

 

This is an important discussion. Not one he ever thought he would have with Steve. The blonde was fiercely protective of his thoughts and worries and the fact that he was sharing such a major concern with Sam meant it was immensely serious to him, something he couldn't mess up, something he had absolutely no prior knowledge upon. Steve doesn't always let people in, but when he does, it makes him all the more vulnerable.

 

And Sam was going to respect that.

 

"But won't it just bring up things of the past again? She'll have to relive all that again, Sam. It'll be so cruel to make her relive it again, to talk about it. How will she handle digging up all that again?" Steve questions with a maddening urgency, an edge to his voice, his voice unusually high and hands trembling. Sam shifts a little closer, a point of contact if touch will help the blonde centre himself, but far enough to give the blonde some space.

 

"Talking about it is the first step to accepting it, Steve. She has to accept the fact that it happened to her while also understanding that it was not her fault. She will relive a lot of those memories, maybe all, but it will help her heal. And she will heal, Steve. She's a strong woman, you always tell me so, there's no way she doesn't come out on top of this."

 

"I haven't spoken to her about this, but what if she doesn't want to go? How will I convince her to give this a chance?"

 

"You don't know if she's going to refute, Steve. Maybe she also thinks it's a good idea, you never know." He counters softly and for the first time in the discussion, Steve turns to look at him.

 

Sam can see fear, doubt, and worry in the blonde's eyes. Can see how badly he wants to do the right thing, can see the protectiveness and loyalty towards his mother. And the moment he sees that Sam knows Steve's going to always do the right things where his mom is concerned.

 

"I'll talk to her. I want her to do this, Sam, but I don't want to force her into anything. I want her to make the choice of her own free will."

 

Sam feels a surge of pride for his best friend, at the love and concern he shows his mother. Sarah's a lucky woman and Sam hopes she knows that, hopes she knows that even when the entire world turns dark, Steve will always shine like a beacon for her. He hopes she knows that even when the whole world turns against her, Steve will always be in her corner.

 

"And she will. Don't worry. You're a good son, Steve, you're not going to force her into anything and she knows that."

 

"Yeah. Okay."  Steve says and turns back to look at the screen. Sam knows the conversation is over, can see it in the way Steve holds himself, all fake nonchalance and fake interest in the screen in front of him.

 

Sam doesn't push, has never pushed Steve to talk about anything or anyone. So, he keeps his distance, takes his cue from Steve and turns around to look at the screen.

 

He doesn't forget the conversation but seeing Tony Stark get kidnapped takes his attention completely off their talk and on to the screen.

 

"How the hell does he look so hot after spending all this time in a cave?" he mutters after a while, seeing RDJ look hotter than ever in a cave while Sam himself looks like a caveman on his best days. He squints at the screen in hopes that the scene would change, but Tony still looks good enough to eat.

 

"I don't know what to tell you, Sam, he's Robert Downey Jr, okay? He can pull off anything and make anything look sexy. You remember that Easter bunny costume he wore and tweeted about? Still looked mighty fine in that." Steve tells him with a smirk and Sam grins at the remainder of that picture.

 

"Damn! I think I have that photo saved onto my phone. I'd gladly call myself a furry if he keeps that costume on." He adds, just to see Steve wrinkle his nose in disgust. He's not disappointed because the moment the words leave his mouth, Steve's face reacts.

 

"Ew, Sam, gross! What the fuck, dude? I am leaving."

 

"No, Steve, I haven't even shown you my own collection of animal costumes. Steve, don't you want to see my red room?" he shouts as Steve runs towards the kitchen, covering his ears and muttering to himself in an attempt to muffle Sam's screams. Sam's laughter follows Steve into the kitchen and Steve's answering laughter soon follows back from the kitchen.

 

And just like that Sam knows the therapy conversation is over. They'll probably never come back to it, at least Steve won't. Sam knows his best friend and he knows that it's probably the last time he's gonna hear about the therapy issue, but he's okay with that. Because Steve's still there in his apartment and not running away and that's important to him. Because Steve let himself be vulnerable, let Sam see that and still chose not to run away. That's progress as far as Sam's concerned; progress for Steve Rogers…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ich spreche vier Sprachen (German)- I speak four languages 
> 
> Anglais, français, Russe et allemande (French)- English, French, Russian and German 
> 
> Да (Russian)- Yes 
> 
>  
> 
> Can we all pretend I didn't just write Marvel inside my Marvel fanfic? Can we also pretend Tony Stark is different to this Tony Stark? Pretty please 😅😅😅
> 
> From now on, I'll be doing some time jumps so let's be prepared for that too :)))))))))))))))))))))))


	19. I Wanna Save You Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bed sharing :)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I am back with my irregular update schedule xD

**_31st March 2020_ **

Steve curses himself again as midnight gives way to the next day. He should've never taken an afternoon nap, should definitely not have fallen asleep for more than three hours and definitely shouldn't have done it before eating multiple bowls of ice cream after dinner.

 

Now, it's after 12 in the morning, he's not tired or sleepy in the slightest, he's running on a sugar high and the logo he's supposed to be drawing seems to be mocking him.

 

All in all, it's a great day to be Steve and Steve curses himself again for being himself.

 

He abandons his laptop and picks up his canvas. He sets it up on an easel and starts rummaging in his table for his art supplies. That's when he hears it: the softest of whimpers, the quietest of moans.

 

He moves closer to the wall he shares with Bucky, leans closer to the wall and as soon as he does, he hears the sound again. It's definitely a moan, but it's not one of pleasure, one of desire. It's pained, afraid and followed by the most wounded whimper he has heard. He bolts out of his room at the sound and knocks on Bucky's door.

 

The knocks don't arouse the brunet and Steve tries the handle on the off chance the door might be unlocked. The door opens with a click sound and Steve thanks whatever fate is on his side.

 

On the bed, Bucky lies fighting with his comforter and trying hard to throw it off him. It tangles with his leg and his arm and he cries out as he tries to wrench himself out of it. Steve sees sweat break out on the brunet's face and start to soak the t-shirt he's wearing. He runs to the alpha's side just as another aggrieved moan leaves his lips and he tries another time to free himself from his comforter.

"Buck…Buck, wake up." Steve shakes the alpha's shoulder but he doesn't wake, just tries to fight Steve off. Steve ducks away from his flailing limbs and tries again, lightly slapping his face and debating about screaming bloody Mary at the brunet.

 

The moment his hand connects with the brunet's face, he whimpers again, makes a heart-wrenching sound that seems to claw at Steve's heart long after it leaves Bucky's mouth.

 

His scent joins in on Bucky's anguish…

 

He takes his hands off the alpha, understanding that he probably can't distinguish between a good touch and a bad tough at the moment and starts calling out to him softly.

 

"Buck…please wake. C'mon you can do it, buddy. C'mon Buck, wake up, please." At the last word Bucky startles awake, limbs still twitchy and eyes darting from one corner of the room to another. Steve notices his gaze linger on the open door for a while before they settle on Steve and Steve has to swallow hard at the look of absolute fear and confusion on the alpha's face.

 

"Where am…what…the IED. The war…" he blabbered and stammered, scooting away from Steve, and locking eyes with the door, his scent giving off nauseating amounts of fear and pain.

 

The omega's heart broke. He'd never seen this side of Bucky, this broken, blabbering side of the otherwise confident, strong alpha. He'd never seen Bucky look at Steve with such desperation in his eyes, fear in his scent and uncertainty in every movement, and it hurt every part of Steve's small anatomy.

 

_"Did you know Bucky suffers from nightmares? And I'm not talking the mild ones either. I'm talking wake up and not know who you are and where you are nightmares. At the VA we always encourage them to call somebody close to them in case of a nightmare like that, somebody to talk you down, remind you of yourself. Despite suffering them almost every night, he's never once called, because he says that it is a minor thing and nobody deserves to lose sleep over it but him."_

 

He didn't know and now he's sure he didn't want to know either. He wants to keep Bucky's strong face in mind, pretend that Bucky isn't another vet who came home to PTSD and hardship. He wants to forget he ever saw Bucky cower away in fear, forget Bucky's pained whimpers. He was happy pretending he was the only one who had a boatload of problems to worry about, to fret over.

 

It was a happy pretence, but one that sadly didn't exist anymore. And it hurt.

 

Because Steve doesn't know how to handle his own problems but he wants to help Bucky with his. But he doesn't know how to do that either.

 

It hurt every fibre of Steve's being. His heart ached and eyes watered for the distraught alpha, for his friend, for his companion.

 

"Shh…you're at home, Buck, you're safe. There are no IEDs to hurt you here, Buck, no war. You're home, sweetheart, you're safe here with me," he told Bucky softly and the brunet blinked rapidly. Steve could see the second recognition flashed in Bucky's eyes and some of the fear left his body. The blonde offered a hand to Bucky, palm upturned and scent calm and Bucky looked at his hand for a while before taking it in his own.

 

"Steve…" he questioned in a hoarse whisper and Steve's heart constricted in his chest painfully. He smiled weakly at the alpha and nodded softly.

 

"I'm here, Buck. I'm right here. I've got you, okay? You don't need to worry."

 

"I was there…my team…I didn't see…I…" he trails off with a lost look in his eyes and it worries Steve. He can't let Bucky get lost in his head again, can't let him go back to horrors Steve just pulled him out of.

 

He tightens his grip on Bucky's hand, shuffles a little closer to him and covers Bucky's hands with his free hand. 

 

"Buck…" he calls out softly and the brunet jerks. He turns towards Steve, eyes wide open and haunted, and mouth agape. He opens and closes his mouth multiple times but no sound comes till Steve gives him another squeeze and calls his name again.

 

This time Bucky reacts…

 

His eyes shift, cataloguing every piece of furniture in the room and lingering on the bed before they land on his metal arm. His eyes widen all over again. He looks at his other arm and then back at his metal hand, does it again and again, before looking up and locking eyes with Steve. Steve can taste the fear in the air around them, can see swirls of shock, desperation, and panic mixing in with the blue of his eyes and he feels tears prick the corner of his eyes and sobs knock at the back of his throat. 

 

Nothing in his life could've prepared him for what happened next…

 

"My arm…I lost my arm. I lost my arm." Bucky starts murmuring in a fear induced panic and Steve just pulls him into his arms without thinking. He sees the distress and terror on Bucky's face and acts on instinct.

 

Bucky sobs in his arms, thrashes in Steve's arms for freedom, pulls his hand away from himself to look at it. He keeps murmuring the same thing over and over again and it worries Steve. He feels Bucky's tears soak through his own shirt and he feels some of his own escape down the back of Bucky's.

 

He holds Bucky tight against himself, doesn't let the brunet escape even as he thrashes around in Steve's arms. He places a hand on the back of Bucky's head and gently guides him towards Steve's neck, towards his scent glands. He lets Bucky bury his nose in his neck and scent him, lets his own scent soothe Bucky and his panic laden scent.

 

Steve lets Bucky cry it out on his shoulder. He buries his nose in Steve's neck and Steve tries hard to keep his scent loving, caring and generally calm. Bucky sobs some more, his body trembling and shaking in Steve's arms and Steve barely blinks back some more of his own tears at the image in front of him.

 

A broken record is what the mighty alpha reminds Steve of; repeating the same thing over and over again.

 

He shushes the brunet gently and sways them side to side, keeping his mind off the Bucky in his arms and instead on the Bucky of yesterday to keep his scent calm, and ultimately feels the brunet grow heavier in his arms. He realises Bucky might be falling asleep again and gently lowers them both on to the bed. He lifts himself off the sleepy brunet and pulls the comforter back over his chest.

 

He smoothes his hands over the comforter and runs one over the comforter and onto Bucky's face just to push a strand of hair away from it.

 

"Good night, Buck." He says softly and moves to stand up but an arm reaches out and takes hold of his own. He looks down at the brunet and Bucky's gives him an uncertain look, one he can't decipher for the life of him.

 

"Steve… will you stay here tonight? I…don't wanna be alone." He tells him in a timid voice and Steve's nods shakily.

 

"Of course, Buck." He replies without thinking and moves to the other side of the bed to climb in. He turns on his side to face Bucky and the brunet does the same. Steve takes one of Bucky's metal hand in his own and intertwines them, before lowering them both onto space between them. Bucky looks at their intertwined fingers for a moment before swallowing drily and giving Steve a watery smile.

 

"Thank you." He says softly and then as an afterthought adds, "Good night, Steve."

 

"Good night, Bucky." Steve smiles at the brunet and squeezes his hands in a comforting gesture. Bucky does the same back and they both close their eyes with small smiles and tired yawns.

 

Their hands stay linked in the morning.

 

(*)

 

Steve wakes up with a vague sense of his surroundings and blinking weary eyes at the ceiling. He immediately knows he's not in his room, the sheets are different against his skin and the comforter is certainly not his, but it takes him a second more to remember he's in Bucky's room, in Bucky's bed.

 

His first thought is to rush out of bed, run to his room and pretend none of this happened. The second thought is...well…not exactly a thought.

 

It's a reminder. It's a reminder that Bucky's hand is still in his own. It is a reminder that Bucky needed him last night. It's a reminder that Bucky asked him to stay because he didn't want to be alone. It's a reminder that Bucky feels safe with Steve there.

 

The blonde squeezes the warm palm in his own and turns on his side to look at the brunet.

 

Beautiful…the word comes up unbidden in his head but he shakes it away. Beautiful doesn't do justice to the way Bucky looks in the morning, soft sunlight warming his face and expression serene under the veil of sleep. He watches Bucky's eyelashes rest upon his carved cheekbones and envies the tan that gets to caress that handsome face. He watches the bow of Bucky's lips and the soft way they part when he breathes. He feels weird, creepy even, watching Bucky sleep like that, but as an artist, he can't help but admire beautiful things…people…

 

Beautiful still doesn't do justice to Bucky…

 

Exquisite perhaps…

 

Lost in his thought of finding a word to describe Bucky Barnes' beauty, Steve gives his hand another squeeze; enough to wake up the man in question.

 

"Are you awake, Steve?" he asks groggily and Steve considers feigning sleep for a while longer. He debates closing his eyes and holding his breath but Bucky's turns to look at him at that moment. The brunet turns on his side to mirror Steve's position and Steve gives him a small smile in return.

 

"Yeah…"

 

"I'm sorry for waking you." The brunet tells him apologetically and Steve shrugs as much as lying on one shoulder will let him.

 

"I was already awake."

 

"I'm not talking about now, Steve," Bucky tells him in a soft whisper and Steve sees shame and doubt flitter through the alpha's face. The chocolate scent in the room sours with every waking moment and Steve's own scent valiantly tries its best to keep it from happening.

 

Steve does too, moves a little closer to the brunet and uses his free hand to softly rest it on their conjoined hands. Cradles Bucky's hand in both his hands.

 

"Neither am I," he tells him softly and Bucky's looks up at him in something so akin to wonder it makes Steve's heart thrum. He fights the instinct to caress away every smidge of doubt from Bucky's features, every inch of same and embarrassment, and it is with great will power that he limits it to just rubbing small circles on the brunet's palm.

 

"I…Thank you for yesterday. I…" Bucky tells him after a while and Steve immediately shakes his head at the red-faced alpha.

 

"Bucky, we don't have to talk about yesterday. I would understand if you don't wanna get into it."

 

But Bucky doesn't listen. He shakes his head at Steve, tells him with his eyes, pleads even to let him say it, to let him admit that he's got a problem. Steve's not trying to stop Bucky, he's just giving Bucky an escape if he wants one, an out but Bucky's doesn't take it. He shakes his head firmly at the omega and taps a finger against Steve's hand for strength.

 

"I have nightmares and they suck. They ruin my sleep and everybody else's around me. I'm sorry you had to see that, that you had to be here for it. And I'm sorry I got snot all over you." He attempts a smile at the last part but Steve can see the pain shine through.

 

He can see the fear, the doubts, the worry. He's not sure what Bucky's worried about, what's going on in his head but Steve hates every second of this. He hates the lines that appear around his eyes, he hates the crease on his forehead, he hates the way serenity has left Bucky's face. He doesn't like the way Bucky's hurting and he certainly doesn't like that he can't do anything about it.

 

He just wants to take all of Bucky's worries away and watch the man smile forever…

 

He doesn't question why…

 

"I'm sorry too. I'm so sorry, Buck." He says instead of all the things he should say and he sees confusion shift some of the pain out of grey eyes.

 

"Why are you sorry?"

 

"I am sorry that I didn't know how to help you. I didn't know what to do, Buck, I'm so sorry." He tells the alpha and he doesn't move, doesn't blink for a while and Steve worries if the alpha is angry about that. If he's angry about Steve's shortcomings as a friend. He debates moving away from Bucky and giving the brunet some space but before he can finish thinking about it, Bucky's hands tighten on his own and he pulls the omega closer to himself.

 

"You helped me, Stevie, you did so well. I didn't know where I was, who I was with and you helped me feel safe. I can never thank you enough for it. You're my hero, Stevie, you saved me from my own self." He tells the omega, stares right into his baby blue eyes and whispers in a voice so soft it's a surprise it carries across the distance between the two.

 

But it does. It carries across the distance between them, across flesh, bones, and blood in Steve's body and reverberates within Steve heart, soul, every fibre of his being. He can't help the soft smile that spreads across his face at the feeling of warmth he gets off the words and he certainly can't help trying to give back Bucky a similar feeling.

 

"You're a hero, Buck. You went overseas to fight for your country, you served the people without ever asking for anything in return and you continue to be strong after losing so much there. You are kind and considerate and even after having a very disturbing nightmare the previous night, you still wake up worrying about others and apologising. You're something else, Buck, something special." He sounds sappy even to his own ears, sentimental and foolish, but none of what he said is a lie.

 

They are not, they never could be. Because Bucky's special, he's special in many ways and all ways and he's special to Steve too.

 

In a lot of ways and many more ways and all ways…

 

"Like ET?" Bucky questions with a small smile and Steve can't help himself as he snorts in return.

 

"Exactly like ET."

 

"Thank you, Stevie. Thank you so much." There's so much gratitude and adoration in Bucky's eyes that Steve wants to look away from them immediately. It is so open, honest and vulnerable that it scorches Steve with its intensity. He finds himself powerless to look away and too weak to look into.

 

He wants to run away…

 

Being this close to Bucky, lying on his bed and holding his hand, it all seems wrong, forbidden, dishonest and Steve wants to run away from it.

 

He's not supposed to be here, he reminds himself. This is no place for him. His place is a brick wall and a door away. Bucky gave him a place in his home, not his bed…

 

"Now c' mon, big man, the walk isn't gonna walk themselves." He jumps out of bed before he even finishes talking and wrenches his hands out of Bucky's in the process. The minute their hands separate, he feels the urge to lunge back for it. It hurts like he lost something precious but he swallows his useless feelings and starts making his side of the bed.

 

"And your coffee?" Bucky's asks with a grin and Steve wants to thank him for not mentioning Steve's deflection.

 

"You're buying, on the way back." He tells the brunet with a challenging smirk and Bucky agrees with a small laugh.

 

"Deal."

 

As Steve walks out, he knows why it all felt so wrong. Simply because it didn't.

 

It felt right and perfect and splendid and thousands of other words nothing short of marvellous, and that's what's wrong. He shouldn't be feeling that way. He shouldn't be thinking that Bucky's beautiful and fighting with himself to touch Bucky's face.

 

Because that's wrong. They're not…he's not…what?

 

Because he's not Pietro and they're not in a relationship and suddenly Steve feels himself wanting to be. He wants to be who Pietro is, he wants to have what Pietro has and that's what's wrong, forbidden, dishonest…

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can everybody please, please, please comment and tell me what your favorite part of the fic is, what you liked/like best? Please...
> 
>  
> 
> My absolutely favorite part about writing this fic has been getting to know some of you. I love talking to you guys online and I love interacting with you all in the comments section. You guys are the best <3


	20. Heat of the Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve goes into heat...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES I AM ALIVE!!!!

**_5th_ _April 2020_ **

The lyrics to shake it off were stuck in his head and the brunet didn't know how it had ended up there or how to get rid of it. He hummed it to himself softly and shook his hips a little as he fixed his hair in the mirror. He knew he looked good in his light blue t-shirt and black jeans. His messy brown hair looked like sex hair and he was sure anybody would agree he looked like sex on legs at the moment. He gave himself a saucy wink at the thought and flexed his arms in the mirror.

 

The metal arm looked good against the backdrop of his short and he smiled as he thought about what his boyfriend might have to say about him today.

 

He smiled to himself at the thought, gave himself a playful wink and finger guns and stepped out of the bathroom. Pietro and he were going to the park that morning, a break from the busy week they both had gone through. Pietro had been swamped with projects and assignments the entire week and for some time before that, and Bucky had been too busy organising a small get together for the vets at the VA. There had been plenty of good food, some classy music and more smiles than the VA was used to, and Bucky was still on cloud nine about its success. But it had meant he had missed his boyfriend dearly and just the thought of seeing him again was making Bucky's step a little lighter.

 

He may or not have also prepared a bunch of cheesy puns he was dying to share with the beta.

 

He imagines the fond exasperated look on Pietro's eyes and sings to himself as he crosses his room and moves towards the staircase. He's almost at the top of the staircase when he hears a soft sound from Steve's bedroom. He strains his ears to hear more but it doesn't come again. Shrugging to himself he steps on to the first step. But this time the sound comes again and Bucky recognises it immediately.

 

A moan: pleasured and content.

 

He smiles to himself as he takes the next step and suddenly the scent hits him in all its force. Sweet, warm vanilla, freshly made and pleasantly honeyed. He sniffs the air again to confirm it and this time there's no mistaking the scent sweetly assaulting his senses.

 

Steve not…Steve's not in there having fun, he's in his heat…

 

Bucky frowns at the realization. Sarah's not home, she's at the hospital for her shift, and though he doesn't get heats, he can guess they might not be too pleasant an experience to be experienced alone. He makes up his mind in half and second and turns back to walk up the stairs. He walks over to Steve's bedroom and stands at the door to call out to Steve. He calls once, twice, trice but Steve doesn't answer. He realizes with a groan that the omega is not awake.

 

He considers letting Steve sleep, but he needs to make sure Steve's eaten something before he walks out the door. Steve's a late sleeper and Bucky knows that if he lets Steve sleep, he'll sleep too late and wake up in no condition to take care of himself.

 

Bucky sniffs the air again. The scent is strong but it's not a full-fledged heat yet. Steve has some time before he's hit with the full force of his heat and he needs to have a full stomach for it. Bucky raps his knuckles on the door and when that goes unanswered too, hits the door with his palm. The thud seems to wake Steve up and an expletive comes hurling towards Buck from within. Bucky waits for a second before opening the door and slipping inside, his face almost slipping into a fond smile at the sight of Steve's scrunched up face and half kicked away blankets.

 

"Stevie…" he calls out softly and Steve turns towards him with a scowl on his face. Bucky smiles at the blonde's disgruntled expression and moves a little closer to his bed, his face threatening to start full-on grinning at the way Steve seems to be plotting his murder in his head.

 

"Stevie…you're in heat." He tells him softly as he comes to stand next to the head of Steve bed and Steve narrows his eyes at him suspiciously. The blonde takes a second to close his eyes and breathe quietly before opening his eyes and fixing Bucky with a glare.

 

"Yeah, no shit, sherlock," Steve grumbles back and Bucky almost chuckles at the omega. But he knows to laugh, even at something Steve said, will not be the best course of action right now so he refrains from it, but barely. Instead, he gives Steve a huge shit-eating grin and walks towards the bedside table where a bottle of water is kept.

 

"I see heat hasn't got your tongue." He smiles as the blonde scowls at him and abuses him again and offers Steve the bottle of water. The omega begrudgingly gets up and snatches the bottle from him and fixes him with the most unimpressed look Bucky's ever seen. This time the smile is a lot harder to control.

 

But where his face marginally succeeds, his scent spectacularly fails. It sings in amusement and not even the tiny shred of worry dampens its giddy mood.

 

It surprisingly doesn't surprise Bucky at all that Steve is angry about the fact that he's in heat. It goes so well with his personality; he thinks and smiles at the murderous glare he's been receiving.

 

It's kinda cute…

 

"Fuck…you…" Steve says as soon as he drinks some water and Bucky bites his lip his tongue at the very obvious retort. Best not to tempt Steve into actually committing homicide or should he say homiecide, he thinks to himself and smiles.

 

From the way Steve smiles at him, Bucky's pretty sure he knows what the brunet was going to say.

 

The sweet scent of Steve's scent strengthens and wafts more with every second that Steve's awake and soon it starts becoming too cloggy and sweet in the room. Bucky knows, any other alpha and Steve would've been in danger by now, but Bucky's learned to control his biology. Some part of the training was courtesy of the army; the men had been trained for the chance that the civilians may be in-heat omegas and they would have to control their baser instincts in that situation. Not just the people they rescue, even the doctors who attended to them, the nurses and other staff could be omegas and the men had been strictly ordered (and properly trained) to control their libidos. Right now, for the first time since returning from the army one arm lighter, he thanks the army as he stands breathing in Steve's intoxicating smell and doesn't lose his bearings.

 

The other part of the training, he's had long before that…

 

"I'm gonna make you something to eat, okay?" he tells the blonde softly and turns to walk away. However, he doesn't get too far before Steve's hand tightens around his wrist and holds him back, the blonde's voice barely a whisper as he pleads.

 

"Don't go…please stay…"

 

Bucky turns to look at the blonde and he can see the shame and embarrassment cloud his face and make him bow his head. He knows Steve is already berating himself forever saying something like that, and even before dropping his hand, Bucky knows Steve already started on the self-flagellation.

 

Bucky can guess the amount of trust it must have taken Steve to say something like that, to admit that he needed Bucky's presence at such a vulnerable time. He knows denying Steve now will only make everything worse. Steve will crawl back into his shell and Bucky can forget their talk about communication.

 

He knows his scent is comforting. His scent is not aroused, it's pretty calm and composed and he knows Steve's drawing comfort from the chocolatey scent; the scent is easing him into heat instead of suffocating him and making him panic. But he needs to go, the first rule of heat is to not go through it on an empty stomach, hence he needs to make Steve something to eat. He can, however, leave his scent behind.

 

He gives Steve a reassuring smile and gently draws his hand back from Steve's loose grip. Steve lets it go without a word and immediately drops his eyes to the comforter in shame.

 

The alpha doesn't say anything, just grabs the hem of his t-shirt and pulls it off himself in one clean move. Steve looks up at the rustling of clothes and his eyes widen as he sees Bucky standing there with his t-shirt off and held in his outstretched hands.

 

"Here, I'll get you something to eat, okay? Will you be okay with that?" he asks in a soft voice and Steve looks up at him in confusion. Bucky smiles tenderly at him and starts nuzzling softly into his own t-shirt, smiling kindly at Steve and motioning for him to do the same. Steve smiles as the realization sinks in and then promptly blushes as he takes the t-shirt from Bucky.

 

Gratitude further sweetens the already sweet air around them.

 

Bucky watches with a smile as the young omega nuzzles into his shirt and he repeats his question from earlier. Steve doesn't open his eyes to answer but he does make an affirmative sound in the back of his throat, making Bucky grin in return.

 

He smiles at the omega as he leaves the room, closes the door softly behind him and makes his way downstairs to get started on breakfast.

 

(*)

 

Bucky's already made some eggs, a couple pieces of toast and, a few sausages when the doorbell rings. He curses himself softly as he realizes that time got away from him and he is late to be with his boyfriend. He rushes to the door with a guilty smile and throws open the door with the most charming smile he can manage.

 

"Hey, Piet." He croons with a flirty smile but the blonde brushes past him without a reply. Bucky can smell the slight irritation in his scent and his own scent drops in despair.

 

He doesn't like seeing Pietro upset, doesn't like to see those blue eyes droop in grief and smell the scent darken in sorrow. He knows he should've called, should've at least texted Pietro and he internally cringes at how quickly he forgot all that when faced with a situation.

 

He turns towards Pietro with a million apologies on his tongue but the beat stops him in his tracks and sniffs the air lightly.

 

"Steve's in heat?" the beta asks with a raised eyebrow and Bucky nods sheepishly, advancing towards Pietro with his arms open and face apologetic.

 

"Yeah. I'm sorry I didn't call or text, I just got distracted by everything. Give me a minute to give him some breakfast, call Sarah and then we can leave, okay?" he asks as he pulls Pietro into his arms and Pietro sighs as soon as he is engulfed in Bucky's arms.

 

"Buck, we can't leave him in this state. He should have somebody looking after him right now." Bucky's lips part in a fond smile as the words leave Pietro's mouth and he tightens his arms around his kind and considerate boyfriend.

 

He does not have much experience with people, hasn't had much contact with many since he got shipped out at 18, but he knows no one would've been this considerate, this understanding of this whole situation. Pietro had not once demanded that Bucky divorce Steve, even after Bucky had told him that Steve and he had had the divorce talk. He understood when Bucky told him about the fear he saw in Steve's face when he broached the subject and had himself demanded Bucky give the omega some time to make sense of everything in his life. He had always considered Steve a friend, even when Bucky had dropped the no sex rule on him and then the fact that he was pretending to be Steve's husband in front of Tony Stark.

 

But this probably takes the cake. He's worried about Steve when his own boyfriend stood him up.

 

"I know, sweetheart, but you know Steve. He'll not want an alpha sticking around and he definitely doesn't want somebody fussing after him." He tells Pietro with a sad smile as he pulls away a little and he sees the cogs in Pietro's head spin. The blonde makes a small inquisitive sound that dies down quickly and Bucky plants a small kiss to the corner of his mouth as he pulls away from Pietro and moves towards the kitchen.

 

"Okay, maybe not an alpha. What about me? I'll take care of him, he's my friend, I ought it to him." Pietro says as he enters the kitchen after Bucky and the alpha doesn't look up from where he's plating the eggs and the sausages, pretending that every word out of Pietro's mouth, every kind, compassionate, considerate word out of his gorgeous mouth is not making him want to throw Pietro against the counter and see what other noises he can make.

 

"He'll not be amenable to that." He says instead and pretends to take extra interest in buttering toast.

 

"It's not his decision to make." Pietro counters and Bucky wants to point out that yes, it is. Steve is the one who will make the decision whether he wants Pietro to stick around or not if he wants somebody taking care of him.

 

Instead, he leaves the plate on the counter and gathers Pietro into his arms, planting a small kiss to his nose as he looks at the blonde with a soft smile.

 

"And what about you? You want to spend your day off taking care of Steve?"

 

"Yeah, sure. I like Steve. He's my friend." Pietro answers simply and this time Bucky cannot help but step up and kiss him softly. He keeps the kiss chaste but no less thorough and passionate. He takes his own sweet time mapping out Pietro's lips with his own and it is only when Pietro whines that Bucky pulls back a little just to leave a mere inch between them.

 

"Okay, sweetheart. I'll grab my stuff and leave, find a hotel or something, and you can stay with Steve till Sarah comes. Does that sound good?" he asks Pietro, his words a mere breath of air on Pietro's lips. Pietro shudders at the sensation and sways forward slightly, but Bucky holds him back with a sheepish smile and a gesture towards the upper floor.

 

"Except one part. Stay with me. My roommate is out of town and I don't have anyone to share a large pizza with." Pietro whispers breathlessly and Bucky can't help but surge in to kiss him again.

 

"Now that's an offer I can't say no to…" he moves back just enough to speak and this time its Pietro who pushes him away and chuckles at the pout on his face.

 

"Get out of here. And don't forget to text Sarah." He reminds Bucky and gathers up the tray with the eggs and the sausages. He hip checks Bucky as he crosses him while going towards the upper floor and Bucky catches his biceps in his arms and gives him another deep kiss.

 

"I love you," Bucky tells him honestly, the words tumbling out of him without warning and it is totally worth it when Pietro gives him a smile that could brighten the whole world.

 

"I love you too." he gives Bucky a shy smile as he steps back and turns back to wink at Bucky when he reaches the staircase.

 

Bucky knows then, that he's screwed…

 

(*)

**_13th April 2019_ **

It takes five days for Steve's heat to cool down and two more days for the aftershock to wear off. He texts Bucky first after five days, telling him the heat is over and that he needs two more days to recuperate but Bucky doesn't text back.

 

Steve texts him again after two more days, telling him he's perfectly fine now and that Bucky can come home but he doesn't get a reply this time either.

 

He worries about it a lot, a nagging voice in his head telling him that Bucky probably got an inkling of Steve's feelings for him and is not returning because of that, but he knows Bucky wouldn't do that. He racks his mind to remember if he's said something to Bucky in his heat daze, but he draws a blank on that front too.

 

He remembers requesting Bucky to stay with him because he craved the calm way he smelled and remembers Bucky giving him his t-shirt in return.

 

Maybe that had been too weird for Bucky, maybe he had finally understood why Steve had requested him to stay…

 

He's sat in his bed wondering what he did, when Sarah walks in, her eyes kind, but unsmiling.

 

"That was an intense week." She says without any preamble and Steve nods and agrees; his mind too distracted to notice the way his mom narrows her eyes at him.

 

"Yeah. I almost thought it wouldn't end." It was the truth; he had never had a heat that lasted this long or was this intense. Due to his small stature and what his body could and couldn't take, his heat lasted a maximum of 3 days and its aftereffects wore off in a day. But this time it had lasted longer and no number of toys had made the emptiness in him go away.

 

It had been bizarre, to say the least.

 

"Have you ever had a heat like that? So…overpowering?" Sarah questions as she takes a seat on Steve's bed and Steve frowns at her in return.

 

She knows he hasn't, she's been there for almost all of Steve's heats, barring the ones in the last two years. Even then, she had been there at the beginning or at the end to hold him, soothe him with her pheromones, make him some food to regain some lost strength, even just to dispel some loneliness. She knows all this about him and still asks a question like that.

 

He tilts his head in confusion and shuffles closer to her.

 

"No. Never. And I must say, I'm not a fan." He attempts a joke to break the tension he can feel in the air, but his mother just brushes past it without cracking even a smile. He frowns harder at her action and subtly sniffs the air.

 

And there's nothing there; nothing to worry anybody else at least. But Steve knows its wrong; his mom's scent is too neutral, no hint of any emotion in it and he knows that wrong. It's impossible that she's walked into his room to have a cryptic talk with him without feeling any emotion.

 

He worries his bottom lip between his teeth and lays a gentle hand on his ma's shoulder. To his relief, she doesn't flinch away.

 

"What do you think caused it? Why was it so strong this time, Stevie?" she questions in a flat voice and it troubles Steve to no end that she refuses to even look at him. He rubs her shoulder absent-mindedly and doesn't wait to think about an answer, even though his eyes drift to the blue t-shirt that lays across his pillow.

 

"How do I know, ma? It's probably the age thing. I'm turning 21 in a few months and it's unacceptable to my stupid biology that I'm not carrying around some alpha's pup." He grips back, his anger flaring at the thought of that and let's go of Sarah's shoulder. He sits back a little and tries to burn a hole in the floor.

 

"Hmm…"

 

"Mom, what is it? What's troubling you?"

 

"I don't think it's about an alpha's pup." She began slowly and Steve's nostrils already flared in anger and indignation. Not this fucking talk again. "I think it's about an alpha." She finished and Steve was up and out of the bed in a flash. He had had this talk with his mom thousands of times, the fucking ‘find an alpha' talk and to have it again wasn't something he was going to acquiesce to. He glared at his mom till she looked up at him and spoke to her in as calm a voice as he could manage through all the fury rushing through him.

 

"Mom, I'm more than just an omega. I'm not gonna find an alpha and become his bitch, clean his house and take care of his kids. I can do so much more than that, I was meant for more than this. I don't want or need an alpha any time soon!" he almost shouts but Sarah doesn't flinch, she doesn't even blink at his outburst. She matches his gaze with a calm look of her own and when she speaks Steve can see her metaphorically looking down at him: nothing condescending but patronizing, as if Steve was a child who was having trouble understanding.

 

"I was not talking about finding an alpha, Stevie, I was saying you already found one."

 

"What are you talking about?" he asks in a daze, his voice too high and pitchy to pass off as casual, but he knows the answer to that question. Could tell that with pinpoint accuracy. He suddenly finds it difficult to meet his mother's eye.

 

"You remember when I brought you that alpha scented patches to help you through your heat, but you took one sniff and threw them away?" she asked after a while, her entire focus zeroed in on Steve. the younger omega took a deep breath to calm himself and nodded lightly in reply.

 

"Yeah…" His eyes drifted again and again towards the t-shirt, that now smelled more like him than the alpha, and swallowed dryly, all the fight draining out of him.

 

 

"Do you remember telling me that alphas always smelled too strong to you when you're in heat, that you couldn't stand it?"

 

"Yeah…" he answered and closed his eyes in defeat. He knew exactly what this was about now and he couldn't lie out of this. He knew where his mom was going with this, should have seen it coming too, but he hadn't had the time to sit down and analyze his own behavior yet. He needed time to make head or tail of the past few days.

 

"You spent the last week curled around one article, Stevie. Pietro made you a very comfortable nest but the only thing you appreciated was a worn-out t-shirt." She finished and Steve could hear the barely concealed frustration in those words, could see his mom's eyes cloud in anger.

 

At Pietro's mention, his blood ran cold. Sweet, innocent Pietro who stayed with him till his mother came home, giving him sponge baths and laying a cold cloth over his forehead Pietro who made him lunch and when he felt too out of it, even fed it to him. Pietro who considered him a close enough friend to push the hair out of his eyes and make a comfortable and safe nest for him.

 

Pietro, who could've spent time with the man he loved, but had instead spent it with him and how had Steve repaid him? By curling up around an article of clothing that belonged to his boyfriend and inhaling it every time a very hard bout of heat hit; imagining all sorts of scenarios where instead of Bucky's shirt, Bucky would be there.

 

Steve's going to fucking hell for his sins…

 

He turned his back to her, dropped his voice to a whisper and implored his mom in a broken whisper…

 

"Ma…"

 

"I'm not done, honey. The t-shirt didn't smell overpowering, you didn't throw it away. You accepted it and you embraced it. Stevie…is there something you wanna tell your mom?" she asked him with tightly sealed lips and Steve was shaking his head before he could even think about the question.

 

"No, there's nothing, ma. Bucky's smell was just familiar, that's it. Please don't read too much into that." He hated lying to his mother but he couldn't let Sarah know the truth, he couldn't let her worry about this on top of everything else too. He tried hard to keep his voice from cracking and for his scent to remain neutral but, he had an ingoing his mother knew anyway. He sighed, gulped and closed his eyes tightly.

 

"If you say so, honey, but please be careful. This won't be like the times you come home with a broken nose or a dislocated shoulder, Stevie. Your heart will not mend itself whole if you break it. There will always be jaded edges, broken pieces, scattered remains. Be careful with it, Stevie, don't let somebody else be in charge of it." she told him quietly and left his room. Steve couldn't bear to watch her leave, couldn't watch the disappointed set of her shoulders. He heavily sat back on the edge of the bed as soon as she left and put his head in his hand.

 

He had a lot of thinking to do…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where the fuck is Bucky? 
> 
> Why is Pietro such a good guy, I want to hate him :( 
> 
> Talk to me in the comments... and we will speculate together :)))))))))))


	21. If I Break, Will You Hold Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets a phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter we have all been waiting for (no the boys are not kissing xD )

**_20th April 2020_ **

It's a dark, gloomy day when the call comes. Steve almost lets it go to voicemail, but something stops him at the very last second. It's an unknown number and the very sight of it makes alarm bells go off in Steve's head. He looks up at the sky for a second, furrows his brows, scowls at the melancholic atmosphere and picks up the call a second before it disconnects.

 

He almost drops it when the person on the other end starts speaking. Steve barely gets a word out before he feels his body get weak and his bones freeze. He stands stock-still at the sidewalk, his phone held in wobbly hands and eyes set dead ahead.

 

He knows he needs to say something, anything. He needs to acknowledge whatever it is that the lady on the other side is telling him, but he finds himself unable to move or respond. He nods his head without thinking and disconnects the call when the lady calls out to him.

 

The sidewalk spins before his eyes and the entire axis of his world tilts. After years of hatred, disgust, venom, and malice, he still finds himself shedding a tear.

 

Alcohol poisoning takes his cruel, abusive, asshole of a father away and suddenly the gloomy skies clear a bit…

 

(*)

 

The funeral is a blur of activity. Some of Joseph's war buddies attend, sporting uniforms not worn in a few years and grim looks on their faces. They express their condolences to Sarah and stare at Steve in shock. They never knew Joseph had a son; Steve is not surprised.

 

There's unsurprisingly nobody from his father's side of the family, they're all dead or strangers and Steve finds himself unconsciously bitter about the fact that the only people Joseph can call family, are the ones who have been mistreated the most at Joseph's hand. But he's also glad about it, Joseph doesn't deserve a whole family mourning him, he deserves somebody to spit on his grave and swear at his tombstone.

 

His mom's there by his side throughout the day, her pale skin standing out in her black dress and red eyes complimenting her tear-streaked red cheeks. She's been crying ever since she received the news, but Steve cannot for the life of him figure out why. Joseph doesn't deserve his mother's tears, doesn't even deserve her mere presence at his funeral. After the way he has treated her, he doesn't even deserve to die wed to her. He doesn't deserve this elaborate funeral that's being thrown for him, he doesn't deserve the flowers everyone insists on bringing, he doesn't deserve the kind words, the polite smiles and the tears that are for him.

 

He deserves nothing.

 

What he deserved was to die on the streets as he did. He deserved drinking himself to his death. He deserved dying without his loved ones by his side. He deserved rotting away in his house two days before the neighbors found his body. He deserved the rotting carcass and the foul stench of alcohol.

 

Sam stands beside him the whole day. Dressed in his Class-A uniform, Sam is everything Joseph wanted Steve to be: the picture of a tall, strong military alpha son. He feels bitter about the fact that Sam wore his uniform to his shitty father's funeral but he knows that Sam is obligated to. Rotten personality and carcass aside, Joseph still served in the army and that means Sam is obligated to show his respects, irrespective of whether Joseph deserved that respect or not.

 

It also makes Steve glad that Joseph didn't die serving the country; he's not sure he would enjoy watching his father being buried with full state honors.

 

Some of his neighbors also attend, shake Steve's hand, kiss Sarah's cheeks and take a seat immediately. He's glad they don't linger; they know too much of the family's history to bother telling either omega they're sorry for their loss.

 

Bucky's there too, somewhere. Steve saw him leave the house in the morning, a shadow that appeared at the door for a second and then vanished. Ever since the news of the death broke out twenty-four hours ago, Steve's hardly seen Bucky. The brunet had placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder when Steve had come home to deliver the news to his mother, had pulled Sarah into his arms when Steve couldn't, had helped organize this entire event. Steve had been too shocked to do much, Sarah too distraught and Sam always by Steve's side. That left Bucky with all the responsibility and though Steve feels bad about it now, he couldn't be bothered to plan a heartfelt funeral for the man who made every second of his life as morose and grief-stricken as a funeral. Joseph made very second of Steve's life a funeral and Steve repaid him by not making even his funeral a fucking funeral.

 

And somewhere, he thinks, he played into his father's biggest dream too. In his own selfishness, he passed on the duty of a son to the only man Joseph had ever considered a son. Even in his death, his father had manipulated Steve into doing what he wanted.

 

It almost startles a laugh out of him, but he painfully refrains. It won't do him any good to make people think he's completely lost in the aftermath of his father's death. He needs to not spiral right now, for the sake of his mother, and nothing more.

 

Pietro comes, offers Steve a hug, a glass of water and leads Sarah away to eat something. He thrust a plate into Steve's hand, gives Sam a meaningful nod and disappears again. Every time Steve sees him, he means to ask about Bucky, but words freeze up every time he sees Pietro's kind eyes and remembers his own selfish motives.

 

Steve's all kinds of fucked up at this point.

Food happens, people drink, his dad's thrown in the back of a hearse and lowered into a ground with a plaque that reads some utter bullshit about him. Kind, he never was, honest, he really couldn't be.

 

He mom cries some more, Joseph's war buddies murmur some more, the priest prays some more and everybody pretends to care some more. No amount of prayer is gonna save Joseph's soul and Steve knows that, but he hopes his prayers at least reach the demons who take that into account as they torture Joseph, add that extra zing to everything they do.

 

His mom travels back with their old neighbor, a polite middle-aged woman named Polly, and Steve watches her go with a heavy heart and wet eyes. She doesn't deserve to feel sad, doesn't even deserve to feel anything towards that asshole. He stands, staring after her retreating figure, and doesn't notice the figure at his side until Sam starts talking.

 

"Steve…"  the omega knows from his tone, as to where the conversation's going. He knows Sam means well, but he's not ready for it yet, he's not ready to talk to Sam about anything. He takes a deep breath, watches the dust rise as the cars drive away, and turns towards Sam with a barely-there smile.

 

"Sam…"

 

"If you wanna talk, I-" Sam begins but Steve doesn't let him finish. He pushes past Sam towards his own car and shrugs his shoulders as he fiddles with the keys.

 

"I don't wanna talk, Sam, I'm fine. Thank you for being here today, it means a lot." He looks back at the alpha so he can see the gratitude in his eyes and Sam smiles at that.

 

"You're my best friend, Steve, there's no other place I'd rather be, than at your side," he says and pulls Steve into a hug. To say Steve melts into the hug would be an understatement.

 

He stood strong the whole day, let his mother take support and consideration she needed from him today. He stood stoic and unmoving at her side as she wept because one of them had to stay strong. But he was only human after all. After a day of confusing feelings and half-formed thoughts, the comfort of the hug felt too good.

 

He gripped the back of Sam's suit jacket tightly and blinked back tears at the alpha's words.

 

"You fucking sap. Don't sweet-talk me so much, you're still not getting in my pants." He tells him through wobbly words and Sam chuckles though he knows Steve's just trying to change the topic.

 

"Damn! You are a hard man to please, Rogers. I might have to try with flowers next time." He tells him and tightens his hug for a second. Steve inhales Sam's strong scent, draws all the comfort he can from it and pulls back to look at the tall alpha only when he feels his eyes dry again.

 

"Sure, trying to kill me using pollen might just work in your favor." He accompanies the words with an eye roll and turns back to walk towards the car. Sam doesn't say anything for a while but he follows Steve. By the time they reach the car, Sam's back to his serious tone.

 

"You sure you don't wanna talk, Steve? This couldn't have been easy on you."

 

"I am okay, Sam, I promise. But I do need to talk to you about ma." Steve tells him, somewhat honestly and Sam stands up straighter at that. He nods at Steve to go on before an inkling of the conversation strikes him.

 

"Therapy…" it is part statement, part question but Steve still nods at that. He brings his thumb towards his mouth to nibble at it and stares at the grass underneath his feet as he thinks of what to say to Sam.

 

How to phrase the truth that's been eating at him…

 

"She cried at his funeral, Sam. He treated her like shit for years and she still cried, she's heartbroken about his death. This cannot be normal; she cannot still love Joseph." he tells him, Steve's voice breaking at every word, every thought. His voice shakes at every word and he knows he's dangerously close to tears again, but he doesn't let them fall. He closes his eyes tightly as he waits for Sam to reply and almost draws blood from his thumb with his teeth.

 

"You cannot dictate somebody else's normal, Steve, and you cannot dictate love. This is not healthy but she's the only one who has a say in it."

 

"I love her, Sam, and I want the best for her." He tells Sam, his voice taking on a pleading edge and Sam nods sagely, brows furrowed in thought. He knows he's yet to talk to her about it, but he can't bring himself up to tell his mother he thinks she needs help. He can't look at her and tell her she is weak and needs to be stronger with the help of another.

 

He can't look at her and tell her that he doesn't know how to help her anymore and she might need to go seek somebody else to do so.

 

"I know you do. You talk to her about this and I'll call Dr. Banner. He's one of the best in the city, probably the world, he'll know what to do." Sam tells him softly, pulling Steve out of his disturbing thoughts and making him jerk his head in what he hopes is an answer.

 

Sam eyes him a little skeptically so Steve puts on a smile he doesn't feel up to and pats the alpha on his back.

 

"Okay. Thank you, Sam. You're the best." Sam looks at him questioningly for a second longer before his face splits in a smile and he punches Steve's shoulder playfully.

 

"I know. And you're not too bad yourself." He tells him with a wink and Steve almost cracks a smile.  The alpha waves at him as he crosses to go get in his own car and Steve's left standing there, his father's funeral and his mom's crying playing in a loop in his head.

 

(*)

He sits on the edge of his bed, eyes, and limbs tired, but mind keyed up and rearing to go. He's scared of what will happen the moment he puts his head on his pillow and closes his eyes, he's scared of the guilt and greed that is gonna overtake him. He scared of the tears he'll invariably shed and even more terrified of the reason.

 

Despite what his exhaustion tells him, Steve forces his eyes wide open and tries to burn the image of his bare walls into his mind.

 

A soft knock on the door startles him back to focus and he blinks away any sleep that's crept upon him. He shakes his head as he clears his mind and mutters a small come in.

 

The door opens tentatively and the warm smell of chocolate wafts in.

 

The scent makes Steve all the angrier.

 

He looks up at Bucky, who enters wearing his army uniform, and immediately lowers his eyes. Now's not a good time to think about how good Bucky looks in his uniform, it's not the time to think anything good about Bucky.

 

He's pissed at the alpha for… _for…so many things…_

 

"Look who finally decided to show up. The funeral was superb, it's a pity you missed it." he grits out from between tightly clenched teeth but Bucky's expression doesn't change from the weary guilt it holds. He looks up at Steve for a second before he drops his gaze and takes a seat at the corner of the bed; too far and yet too close to Steve.

 

It makes Steve's blood boil and run cold at the same time.

 

"I was there, Steve," he tells Steve softly, as if in confession, and it further fuels the fire in Steve's belly.

 

They'd promised not to lie to each other anymore and here Bucky was, doing it again.

 

Bucky wasn't there. Steve had looked, had searched, had asked around. Bucky had not been there on the day Steve needed him like crazy and he had the gall to lie to Steve about it. He clenches his hands into fists, anger making his vanilla scent acidic, and his angry voice barely carries over the small distance between them. 

 

"Where? Where were you, Bucky?" You were not there when I looked for you. What if I had needed you? I didn't, but what if I had?

 

"If you would've needed me, Stevie, I would've been there in a heartbeat. I was right there with you, watching your back and making sure nothing was too overwhelming for you." The brunet tells him in a soft whisper and Steve's entire world comes crashing down beside him.

 

Bucky wasn't supposed to hear that. Bucky wasn't supposed to know that, he wasn't supposed to know Steve had looked for him. He wasn't supposed to know Steve had been bothered by his absence. He wasn't even supposed to know Steve had ever thought of turning to Bucky for comfort.

 

Bucky wasn't supposed to know that Steve had worried about needing him…

 

When the silence stretches too long, Steve changes the subject. Because even though he never runs from a fight, he wants to run from the look on Bucky's face, from the heart-wrenching sincerity and concern he sees there. He needs to run away from the replay of Bucky saying he'll be there for Steve that's running in his head.

 

He needs to run away the damned illusion he's been creating in his head where Steve admits to needing Bucky and Bucky appears at Steve's side in an instant, only to stay forever.

 

So, he changes the subject, does something he's been doing ever so long.

 

"Watching my back? What does that mean?"

 

"A funeral is a lot of work, flowers and caterers and hearses. There are a thousand calls to be made and a hundred people to be paid. Someone has to look out for all that, Steve, and I couldn't let you or Sarah be burdened by any of it. You guys deserved a day to grieve, not run around looking for the lost crate of cutlery." Bucky tells him quietly and turns away to stare at the same wall Steve spent most of the tonight staring at. Steve too looks back at the wall, but he can't help moving a little closer to Bucky, his scent seeking the comfort of the alpha's scent. 

 

"I could've helped." He tells Bucky and he turns to look at Steve, holds Steve's gaze with his own as he answers.

 

"Sarah needed you and you know that." And just like that Steve knows he's lost this argument, as half-hearted as it had been. He couldn't have helped; his head has been a mess ever since the call from the hospital. He'd hardly put on his tie straight and was in no shape to handle any calls or people for that matter.

 

But he's also too proud to admit to the same.

 

And that's why he's grateful Bucky doesn't point that out, even though that's probably what he wanted to. Steve would've fought him for ever saying Steve couldn't do something, would have kicked his ass for implying Steve was incapable of anything that he himself was. He instead used Sarah as his argument, knowing fully well Steve couldn't deny it if he wanted to.

 

Steve almost cracks a smile at how well Bucky knows him after such a short time.

 

"Thank you so much. But you shouldn't have, Buck, it was my father's funeral, it was my duty to do this for him. You should've let me do it." it's something about the way they're sitting, the low lights in the room and the quiet way they're talking to each other, but Steve can't help the way his eyes keep flitting back to Bucky's face, the way he seems to keep shifting closer.

 

Not just physically. He can feel his scent trying to meld itself to Bucky's scent, can feel it trying to hold on to Bucky's scent, draw it closer to itself.

 

"If I say something, do you promise not to punch me in the face?" the alpha turns to him with a small smile and Steve nods before he registers the question.

 

"I'll try."

 

Bucky nods at his reply but doesn't say anything for a while. Steve frowns at the unusual silence and covers the last few inches between them till he can take Bucky's hand in his and hold it tight.

 

It's permission, it's support, it's comfort. It's whatever Bucky needs because Steve wants to give him everything he needs, wants, loves…

 

"You owed your father no duty to throw a funeral in his honor. He was never your father, Steve, he treated both of you very poorly. He never once acted like a father, he didn't love you like one, he didn't give you the respect you deserved. You didn't owe him shit." The alpha finally says in a quiet voice that has Steve straining his ears to hear.

 

He sits stunned for a second, never dropping Bucky's hand or his gaze from the side of Bucky's face and just continues to stare at the brunet. Stares at him till Bucky slowly turns his head to look at Steve, guilt, apprehension, and concern rapidly changing colors on his face, and stares some more until Bucky drops his gaze to their joined hands.

 

There are a million things Steve ought to say here. Things like ‘no, he's still my father', ‘you have no right to say these things', ‘are you insinuating he loved you more' and a lot more bullshit. But none of them are what he actually wants to say.

 

Because, the way Joseph treated him never made him a father. Yes, Bucky has no right to say these things but he's not wrong and Steve has been waiting to hear these words the whole day. He's been waiting for someone to tell him it is okay to not be the one throwing the funeral. That it is okay to not want to either.

 

And of course, Joseph indeed loved Bucky more.

 

Whatever Bucky said doesn't make Steve want to sprout a bunch of bullshit he doesn't believe in, instead, it makes him rest his head on Bucky's shoulder and draw comfort from his strong scent and comforting presence.

 

It makes him want to tell Bucky everything he's never said out loud and admit things he's never even admitted to himself.

 

And so, he does.

 

After all, they did promise to be honest with each other.

 

So, like every other time in his life, Steve Rogers dives headfirst into his instinct.

 

"He was never always like that, you know?" he waits for a second, what for he doesn't know. Maybe he's also waiting for permission to continue, for support, for comfort, for Bucky to give him the go-ahead. He waits without knowing what for till Bucky draws his hand out of Steve's, and drapes it around his tiny waist. He pulls Steve closer to himself, takes Steve's hands in his metal one and gently draws random patterns on it.

 

Even as Steve blinks away tears at the gesture, there's no stopping the flow of words after that…

 

"He loved me when I was born, adored me, worshipped the ground I walked on. He used to have big dreams for me, dreams of the army and of all the honor and pride I was gonna bring how with me. He used to read me stories of strong army men and their sacrifices, play catch with me when he used to come home from tours, tuck me in bed and dote on me all the time. I was a sickly child, always catching the latest flu or pneumonia and all, and he would sit at my bedside with warm soup and medicines, applying and reapplying cold compress to my head, silently praying for my health. He loved me, Buck, he loved me so much."

 

This time when he stops, it's for a breath, for the strength to continue on. He's never told anybody any of this. Sam knows because Sam, like Bucky, deduced it from Steve or Sarah's state. He has never had anybody in his life he has trusted with his insecurities, the pandora's box of issues Joseph's left him with.

 

But Bucky walked into his life and here Steve is, a few months into his friendship and already trusting him with Steve's story, his past, his fears, his mental scars.

 

"Then puberty came, for all the boys on the block but not me. I remained small and sick and barely useful. My dada was still hopeful, he prayed and hoped for some miracle but everybody else had written me off as an omega. My dad kept his fingers crossed, but somewhere deep down even he knew. The time we spent together lessened day by day. He could hardly stand to be the same room as me when I got sick but he looked at me with pride every time I came home with a broken nose. It gave him some reassurance that maybe all was not lost, but my small stature still troubled him."

 

Bucky's hand tightens around his waist a little and Steve looks up at him to give him a small smile. He can smell the anger starting to sour Bucky's scent and he knows it is only going to get worse from there. Bucky looks down at him but doesn't return Steve's smile. When Steve persists, he quirks his lips a little but doesn't loosen his grip.

 

It's the best Steve's felt in a very long time.

 

"It all culminated when my eighteenth birthday rolled around. Omega! I was an omega. My dad flew in from his latest tour, a leave he had asked for almost a year in advance, his fingers crossed and fervent prayers on his lips. He met some friends of his outside, I think, who told him I was an omega. He didn't take it well."

 

All his courage, his drive to tell Bucky about himself dry up at this point. It's sudden, it's abrupt but he can't go on from here. He closes his eyes tightly and suddenly black spots swim in his vision and his breath starts coming out in long wheezes and short sobs. He tries to breathe normally but his throat feels closed up and it isn't until he hears Bucky's deep voice in his ear that he realizes he's started crying.

 

The brunet wraps both arms around him and gently sways them side to side, making soft shushing sounds and softer comforting sounds to calm the distressed omega. Steve feels more tears prickle the back of his eyes, but he closes his eyes tightly against their assault. He focusses on Bucky's voice, the warmth of his embrace, the sweetness of his scent. He focusses on the words Bucky was saying, the strength in those arms and the calmness of the scent. It helps him get his breathing under control and control his tears, but Steve doesn't let go of Bucky. He stays in Bucky's embrace and seeks the comfort he's been looking for the entire day.

 

He lets himself be held, even after he is okay and does not need it anymore, but wants it some more.

 

As his tears dry up and he sniffles one last time, Bucky speaks up, his voice still too close to Steve's ear and his arms safe around Steve's body.

 

"You don't have to say anything more, Stevie. You did so well. You don't need to tell me any more, Steve, it is okay. You're okay." He whispers softly and it more than anything makes up Steve's mind. He's going to tell Bucky what he started out to say. He's never been one to back away from a challenge and this wasn't going to be the first time either.

 

So, he shakes his head and launches himself right back into it.

 

"I thought he'd hit me, maybe that he'd starve me, lock me up. He didn't do any of it, Buck, he just smiled at me and told me I wasn't his son. Just like that, just because I was not an alpha, he disowned me. I begged him, pleaded, but he refused to budge. He threw me out of his house and kept my mom away from me for years." he hears Bucky mutter some swears under his breath but the alpha doesn't interrupt his story. He burrows himself further into Bucky's embrace, his leg almost thrown over the alpha's, and draws strength from the deep chocolate scent that's washing over his senses, embracing his scent and holding it just like Bucky's holding Steve.

 

"He's gone now and I don't feel sad, I don't feel grief. Isn't that wrong, Buck? He's my father and he's dead and all I'm feeling is a huge sense of relief. He can't hurt me anymore; he can't hurt my mom. He loved me once upon a time, but I can't even bring myself to mourn the loss of those days. I'm just so relieved, I feel like a monster. What kind of son doesn't cry at his father's funeral? What kind of son finds happiness in his father's casket?" his voice cracks dangerously at the last sentence and he feels Bucky sigh softly.

 

It's the truth Steve's been fighting all day, out in the open for Bucky to dissect and poke. Before hearing the news of his father's death, seeing him lying there in a casket, waiting to be buried, Steve had never felt more relief, more happiness. His father was gone and all Steve could feel was a sense of relief, a belief that all wrongs would be righted now. He hadn't felt any wetness in his eyes and it had taken every ounce of his strength to not say thanks to the Gods. He hadn't felt gut-wrenching and heart numbing pain that everybody feels at the passing of their loved ones, he hadn't felt immeasurable grief cripple him, hadn't felt ineffable throes of separation destroy him. 

 

All he had felt was relief, happiness and a bright beacon of hope for the future.

 

What kind of son was he, rejoicing at his father's death? What kind of son was he, if he could only feel relief over his father's dead body? What kind of a son was he, if his father's death didn't draw tears from him?

 

"There's nothing wrong with what you're feeling, Stevie. Your father does not deserve your tears. He doesn't deserve your grief and he doesn't deserve your guilt. He's treated your mom and you very badly and it is only natural and justified to feel a sense of relief when such a man is no more. You're not a monster for not grieving the loss of a monster, you're human. You've no reason to be sad, Stevie, and every reason to be happy. He's gone and he cannot hurt you or Sarah anymore." Bucky delivered the words right into Steve's core, where they warmed his very heart and soul. He inhaled shakily as he let the warmth of those words thaw the ice in his chest, that's he's been carrying for the past day and a half, and he lets Bucky hold him as he exhales all his energy in a sigh.

 

It's stupid to want Bucky's seal of approval. Dumb and against everything he's ever stood for, but it is Bucky. Bucky's not just anybody anymore. He's…

 

He's become a somebody in Steve's life…

 

"And you? Are you grieving, Buck? Are you sad?" he asks after a while, lifting his head from Bucky's chest and sitting up a little, far enough to look into Bucky's eyes as he speaks, but not far enough for Bucky's hands to fall from around him.

 

"He was a terrible man, Steve. He hurt people I really care about. But he didn't hurt me, he was never a bad man to me. I lost my father really young and the only person who's ever come close to that was Joseph. He cared about me a great deal even during the war, you know. He saved my life. To hate a man who took a bullet for me, would be the biggest sin I could commit. Today was a confusing day, I didn't know what to feel. Some part of me cried for the second father I lost, some part rejoiced at the death of the man who hurt you and Sarah." Bucky tells him honestly and though a part of Steve wants to stamp his foot and tell Bucky to hate Joseph, he knows that makes no sense.

 

Joseph was nothing, if not a perfect father figure to Bucky. He saved Bucky's life. And Bucky is correct. How can you hate the man who saves your life? How do you hate him for what he did to others when what he did for you was taking a fucking bullet and saving your life?

 

But Bucky still hates Joseph for what he did to Sarah and Steve because he cares about them.

 

And that is enough for Steve to know what to say to him…

 

"I don't expect you to hate him for what he did to my ma and I, Buck, you're allowed to like him." And he means it too, Bucky's allowed to like people for how they behave with him, not with Steve.

 

Caring aside, Steve's not important enough in Bucky's life to make him hate or like other people.

 

"He was a bad man, Steve. A person who doesn't treat their family right is not one to be liked. He treated you guys like shit and I would hate myself if I sympathize with him. No one deserves hate for the way they were born or who they are and if Joseph couldn't understand that, then he has no place in my heart for himself." Bucky tells him with a small smile and Steve has a hard time controlling the urge to lean over and close the space between them.

 

He's so close, he can see the shadow Bucky's eyelashes cast on his cheekbones, can see the tiny crows' feet by his eyes, can count the wrinkles by his lips.

 

He can see that the blue of Bucky's eyes has a little grey in them and he can see the sincerity and care that makes them shine.

 

He can see the day-long stubble decorating his face and he can see the bobbing of Bucky's Adam's apple.

 

He's in so deep for this wonderful man and yet every day he finds himself falling deeper.

 

"Thank you. For everything, Buck. I know I say this all the time, but I mean it every time too. Thank you so much." He says instead of all the things he wants to say and hopes Bucky can read between the lines and also that he never knows what Steve means by those words.

_Thank you for being the best thing that's happened to me in a very long time, thank you for showing me not all alphas are assholes. Thank you for being so sweet and kind. Thank you for holding me. Thank you for giving me a chance to be this close to you. Thank you for all the things you make me feel. Thank you for the comfort and safety that you provide me with. Thank you for so many things that I don't have the words to thank you for. Thank you, thank you, thank you…_

 

"For everything? Care to elaborate?" Bucky asks with a small smile and Steve doesn't need to think about his answer.

 

"For being here right now. For giving my ma and I a roof over our heads. For being such a good man. For listening and not judging. For being you, I guess. You being you is nice, I like you."

 

"I like you for you too, Stevie. Now get some sleep, you're very tired." He tells the blonde with a small smile. Steve open his mouth to disagree but a yawn negates any argument he was gonna make. Bucky shakes his head fondly and gently lowers Steve onto the bed, pulling his blanket up as he goes and tucking Steve in tightly.

 

Steve looks up at him and smiles, his eyes heavy with sleep and words already slurred.

 

"Will you stay?" when Bucky hesitates for a second, Steve backtracks and mentally berates himself. "Sorry, I didn't mean that. It's okay, I'm a big boy, I can sleep alone." He moves to turn around and escape Bucky's gaze but the alpha traps him by putting his hands next to Steve's head on his pillow and giving him a fond, exasperated smile.

 

"Slow down, punk, let me go change out of my uniform and then I'll come and take my place next to you. Okay?"

 

"Thank you, Buck," Steve whispers one last time and feels his eyes droop some more. He feels Bucky stand up from the bed and hears a chuckle as the brunette moves towards the door.

 

"Yeah, you already said that."

 

"And I meant that," Steve says through a barely stifled yawn as his eyes closed and he drifted off to deep slumber.

 

He doesn't hear Bucky come back in. Doesn't hear Bucky murmur a soft goodnight to him. Doesn't hear Bucky get under the covers with him.

 

But he wakes up to Bucky on the other side of his bed and a small smile comes over his face. This had to be the best sight to wake up to and it was made all the better when a small yawn comes over Bucky's features and he opens his eyes to smile at Steve.

 

"Good morning, Stevie. Sleep well?"

(*)   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me @ me: stop hurting Steve. You've already hurt him so much.  
> Me: Lets kill his father, make him feel super guilty about being happy about it, and then make him cry.   
> Me @ me: -_-


	22. My Heart, or My Home?

**_25th April 2020_ **

 

Steve didn't know how to quantify the past few days. He had spent most of that time with Bucky, their bond having gotten stronger after Steve's impromptu confession, and he had hardly felt the grief and guilt he had been feeling a few days back. It had been a mere four days since Joseph's death, but Steve was already happier, freer and safer than he had ever been. The sun shone a little brighter, smiles came a little easier, his heart felt a little lighter.

 

The only thing that still troubled Steve was the fact that he hadn't seen Sarah ever since the funeral. His mother had locked herself in her bedroom, hardly appearing for meals or water and it worried him immensely. He had knocked on her door multiple times, had called out to her, had taken food and water up to her but she refused to even get out of her room.

 

It was Bucky who told him to give her a little space, a little time. Steve didn't want to comply, he hardly wanted to acknowledge the advice, but he had given in by the second day. If his mother wanted some space, he would give her that. Steve was no Joseph, he understood people, understood their choices, their decisions, and along with understanding, he respected that. Just because Steve needed his mother, didn't mean she needed him. If some alone time was what she needed, he would give her that.

 

Bucky's proud smile at Steve's acquiesce didn't make him feel any better about any of this though. (Steve's a liar, it definitely did.)

 

Steve sat in his room, book open on his lap and eyes scouring and devouring the pages hungrily. He had already read the Lord of The Rings, but it seemed to get better with time. Each time he read it, he met the characters all over again, got introduced to them again, fell in love with them over again. The saying familiarity breeds contempt didn't hold the truth in this matter; familiarity was what Steve loved about rereading the book.

 

Hence, it was no surprise that when a knock sounded on the door, Steve was not too happy about it. 

 

He groaned to himself and begrudgingly bookmarked the page he was currently reading. He trudged half-heartedly to the door and threw it open with as much contempt as his all American, pale, angular face and doe eyes allowed.

 

The sight of the person on the other end made all his annoyance disappear. His scent perked up a little too, relief and a little happiness making its way into pleasant vanilla.

 

"Mom?" it comes out a little strained and unbelieving and Steve cringes the moment he hears it. It doesn't sound welcoming, doesn't even sound pleasantly surprised. It outright sounds incredulous and doubting and it leaves no doubt in Steve's mind that Sarah will not want to stay after hearing such a tone.

 

But she surprises him by smiling softly and gently pushing back an unruly lock of hair from his forehead.

 

"You seem surprised to see me, Stevie," she tells him with a little smile and Steve immediately shakes his head.

 

"No, that's not-"

 

"True? I've been a shitty parent and I know that, sweetheart. You don't have to defend me and my behavior. I'm sorry, Stevie, I really am," she tells him softly and the atmosphere in the room shifts to that of guilt and grief again. Steve moves to shake his head again, but Sarah stops him with a hand on his cheek, her caress soft and her words softer. "You needed me and I wasn't there, Stevie, even though it is my duty to be. I was supposed to be strong for you the way you always have been for me, but instead, I ran away and locked myself up in a room. It is unfair to you, Stevie, you deserve better. I haven't been a good parent these past couple of days and I need to apologize for that. I'm sorry, Stevie, ma will be here for you always. She wasn't in the past, but that changes now. Now, it is you and I, honey, a team, I promise."

 

Steve blinks up at the ceiling as his eyes burn a little but he doesn't cry. He had been strong for his mother, but he doesn't understand why she feels the need to thank him for that. He didn't do her a favor, she's his mother, it is his duty to be there for her whenever and however she needs him. The fact that she hadn't done the same for him, throughout his life and even after Joseph's passing, had hurt a lot, but he had taken it in stride as he did everything. His mom needed some time alone and he understood that; he still understands that.

 

Everybody processes their grief in different ways and if for Sarah that way was to shut herself away and not seek Steve's help, then Steve would accept that, no matter his adverse feelings to it.

 

But the fact that his ma felt guilty about it? That Steve wouldn't allow.

 

"You don't have to apologize, ma, I understand what you were going through. You deserved some time to grieve, sometimes alone. I understand that," he tells her as sincerely as he can because all of it is not true. He can understand her method of grieving, the fact that's he shut him away, but he cannot understand why she grieved.

 

Why grieve for a man like Joseph? Why shed tears for a corpse that was as rotten in life as it was in death? Why suffer in solitude when the death of such a man was an occasion for celebration, for rejoicement? Why was Joseph worthy of Sarah's tears, when he had been the cause of it for the better part of her life?

 

He wanted to know the answers for each one of them, for every one of them, but he held his tongue. His ma didn't need a police interrogation now, she needed reassurance from her son that all was well between them and that was exactly what Steve had given.

 

But Sarah was after all his mother. She knew Steve inside out, his makings, his thoughts, every essence that basically made him. She took a second to look at Steve, her gaze boring into his eyes till he averted them and then the side of his face. She stood quietly for a minute, her breath even and calm but her scent suddenly not calm enough for Steve's liking.

 

She stepped into Steve's room and took a seat on the foot of his bed and beckoned for him to do the same. Steve took a seat beside his mother, but didn't meet her gaze, couldn't bring himself to. The two omegas sat in silence for a while and it was Sarah who finally broke the silence. 

 

"Do you understand, Steve? Do you understand why I was mourning for a man like your father? Why I grieved for the man who hurt us so much?" Her eyes were fixed to the side of his face and Steve's eyes burned a hole in the floor beneath his feet. He didn't know how to answer her question, how to avoid her eyes and the questions. He wanted to scream his negation to her face but he couldn't, couldn't bring himself to be so cruel to her.

 

"No, I don't. But I don't need to. It's between you and him, and my opinions and thoughts don't matter. It was your choice, ma, and what I think about it doesn't matter." He finally met her eyes as he spoke and immediately regretted the action as he saw the wetness in Sarah's eyes. He moved forward to comfort her but she just shook her head and took both his hands in her own. 

 

"It matters to me, sweetheart, you matter to me. I want you to know why I grieved, why I shut myself away. I want you to be part of my choice, for you to be aware. Do you want that, Stevie? Do you want to know?"

 

"Yeah…okay."

 

"I grieved because I loved him once. Don't get me wrong, I don't love your father anymore, haven't in a really long time, but there was once an age where I loved him with every fiber of my being; when he brightened up my whole day by just being there. His smile was my kryptonite and his eyes the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was a long time ago, but I loved him. I mourned for that love. I grieved for everything he could have been but wasn't. I grieved when I thought of the man who was no longer any less than a monster, I grieved because you lost your father. I grieved because I couldn't understand the immense relief flooding through me, the sense of safety I felt when I saw him lifeless. I cried because my mating bond hurt, but not my heart." She paused to wipe her eyes and meet Steve's watery ones. "I don't expect you to understand what I am saying, Stevie, I don't expect you to see the justice in it. Joseph did not deserve my tears nor yours and I am glad he only got to have one of those. But you must remember, I never cried for the man who died, I cried for the man who was born and who he could've been."

 

And maybe that shouldn't have been enough of a justification to cry at Joseph's funeral, shouldn't have been enough of anything to be of use to Steve. His father was one of the worst people to have ever lived and Sarah should never have wasted any tears on him. But she did and that hurt Steve. But, what his mother did, or didn't do, or even thought, was none of his business. As she once told him, it was her choice and he had no right to dictate right and wrong. He may never understand it, but it was her choice and that was enough for him.

 

"I…I do understand, ma. I understand the guilt that comes from feeling a sense of relief from a tragic event, I understand the guilt that comes with the feeling of ‘finally'. I don't understand all of what you said, cannot understand falling in love with a man like that, but that is more from me having never fallen in love or having had a mating bond, but I want to understand. But, also, I don't. You said that's the reason and I believe you, that's enough for me. I lost a shitty father, you lost somebody more. It was your choice and that's all that matters to me."

 

Sarah met his eyes with tears streaming down hers and he immediately pulled her into his arms. Over the past few months, this was how all their conversations were going and Steve was positive that it was bound to change now. The reason for all their tears and their grief was finally gone and they both had done their fair share of grieving for him. They'll not forget Joseph, can't after all that he's put them through, but he will remain just a blurry half-forgotten nightmare. His image will never accompany the tears of yearning, but the sneers of hatred. Sarah and Steve will both remember Joseph, but with hate and at times pain, never with love.

 

"When did you grow up so much, sweetheart? When did you cease being my baby?" Sarah asked with tears streaming down Steve's shoulder and her hands tightly wound against his torso. Steve held her back with the same strength and fear to let go as he answered. 

 

"I'm still your baby, ma, just a little cynical, a little jaded, a little tired."

 

"I am so sorry, Stevie, I'm so, so sorry. I took your childhood from you, your youth and forced you to grow up faster. You never had a childhood and I'm so sorry about it. You grew up so quickly, you lost your innocence and naivety, and it is all my fault. I'm so sorry, Stevie, I'm so sorry," Sarah's voice was barely a whisper as she babbled her apologies and Steve held a little tighter as if he could put an end to the apologies through his will power alone.

 

"It is all in the past, ma, we're moving forward now. There's no one to hurt us anymore, nobody we have to be afraid of. We get to start our lives afresh and I don't want it to start with apologies and clarifications. A new slate, new us. This time we start with smiles on our face." He felt strong, almost invincible as he pulled back from the hug and Sarah beamed at him in return. Their scents, rose water and vanilla, rose from where they drowned in grief and guilt, to the soaring heights of hope.

 

"Yeah, baby, new slate, new us. I even have an idea where we can start," Sarah agreed enthusiastically and Steve was already jumping in before she could finish.

 

"Is it with new haircuts? Cause that's what the kids are doing these days."

 

"Maybe later." She took a deep breath and let it go. "I was thinking about moving out from here."

 

The vanilla scent crashed from its height and plunged back to a state of shock.

 

Moving out from here would mean away from Bucky, away from Pietro. Bucky, who was becoming something Steve had only ever dreamt of before and Pietro, who was slowly becoming one of Steve's closest friends. Bucky, who threw Steve's dad's funeral when Steve couldn't and Pietro, who stood by Steve's side during all of that. Bucky, who was Steve's shoulder to cry on and a solid, comforting presence and Pietro, who fed him and kept him sane during his heat. Bucky and Pietro, who considered him family and treated him as an equal, with love, respect, and so much affection.

 

Bucky…

 

He had become something more than friends. He was Steve's…Steve's chosen one. He was everything Steve wanted in a mate, a husband. He was Steve's husband, through some cruel hand of fate. He was so much more than just another alpha, he was Bucky, Steve's home.

 

He had become Steve's home, hadn't he?

 

And how do you move away from your home?

 

"What," Steve asked blankly as his mind worked hard to wrap around the idea.

 

He couldn't have heard that correctly, it couldn't be true. Not now, not when everything was going so well…

 

"Your dad's gone, Stevie, and our home awaits us. It belongs to us now; we don't have to depend on James anymore. We can finally stand on our own damn feet. You've got your job and I'll look for one. Just the two of us, like it should've been a long time ago if I had dared to walk away. No more living dependent on alphas, just you and I." And that made sense. And Steve hated that it made sense.

 

Above everything he hated that it made his mom smile, that it made her scent light up, that it brought out the light in her eyes that Steve thought his father had extinguished long back.

 

Jesus! He would do anything for that light to stay, for his mom to keep smiling like this. If all he had to do was go back home with her and live there, something he had been dying to do since he was goddamn eighteen years old, then he would do it in a heartbeat. Bucky and everybody else be damned. He fought whatever his scent was doing, plastered a smile on his face and nodded as enthusiastically as his neck allowed. 

 

"Mom…that's very good."

 

"It will be our new beginning, Stevie, you don't object do you? A lot of young adults don't like living with their parents. You gonna be okay with that?"

 

"Yeah." He fought through the words as his throat choked up, but he managed to make it sound somewhat convincing. "I'm looking forward to it."

 

"I'm so glad, baby. I already spoke to James about the divorce, I'll run this by him too. Or do you wanna do it?" Sarah asked with the same twinkle in her eyes, her scent dancing in joy and all Steve could do was fixate on one word.

 

"Divorce?"

 

"You guys are married, remember? I guess it is kind of hard to remember that your meeting had not been under the best of circumstances. It's okay, sweetheart, he said he'll handle it."

 

The divorce from Bucky. Of course, he remembered he was married to Bucky. Of course, he remembered that he has, and doesn't have the alpha at the same time. Bucky is his on paper, but in reality, he was never to be Steve's. Perfect men like Bucky don't belong with people like Steve and even if they do end up together by some luck, fate reminds them of their depravities; separates them to set order back in the universe. Bucky would give Steve a divorce and then Steve would move out of the house, their home. That would be the end of their friendship, the end of everything they could've been in another life. There will be no reason for Steve to have any further contact with Bucky, after all, whatever they had was because of what his father did, not because they wanted it. Once they're out of the same house and out of their marriage, why would somebody like Bucky ever want to keep in touch with somebody like Steve?

 

Steve didn't cry, even as his scent wailed and his mom's brows furrowed.

 

"Okay." His voice wavered but he pretended not to notice it as he smiled wide.

 

"You look very pale, Stevie, you okay?"

 

"I am not feeling well, maybe I'll lie down," he lied even though it didn't feel like a lie. He wasn't feeling ill, but he definitely wasn't feeling well. He wouldn't for a long time either. His entire world seemed to be spinning as he contemplated the end of his…something…with Bucky and that weighed heavily on him. He would definitely be lying down, but instead of resting, he'll think about everything and anything under the sun.

 

"Okay. I'll let James know that we're moving out." Steve dry heaved suddenly and Sarah put her hand on his forehead. "Steve? You sure there's nothing your mom needs to know?" her voice and face spoke volumes of her worry but Steve wouldn't and couldn't let her worry anymore about him when his issue was so small, so futile in front of everything she had ever gone through. He put on a fake smile and softly held onto his mother's wrist.

 

"No, ma, nothing."

 

Sarah looked at him in disbelief but didn't press any further. She placed a soft kiss to his forehead and lay him down his bed. She pulled the sheets up to his shoulders, pressed another brief kiss to his forehead and whispered a good night before she made her way to the door.

 

"Mom…"  Steve called out to her as she left and held his breath as she turned. He knew he had to ask, had to suggest, but it didn't make it any better.

 

"Yeah, sweetheart?" she turned as she paused to switch off the light and Steve drew in a barely perceptible huff of breath.

 

"Do you think there's time for therapy in our new beginning?"

 

"Therapy?" she turned fully and fixed her gaze on his prostrate form. Steve could read her face but he could read the apprehension in her scent, the fear of the unknown.

 

"I just thought…"  he began but she cut him off.

 

"Will you be there with me? Mother-son bonding time, maybe?"

 

"Of course, ma," he replied without thinking because he didn't have to. He would do it for her. Anything she wanted, anything he needed, hell anything she so much as desired for. Steve didn't believe that he was fit for therapy; he wasn't scarred enough by his father, but if his presence is the incentive his mother needed then he would do it.

 

He would do anything for her…

 

"Okay, I'll think about it. Sleep well, baby," she replied swiftly and walked away from the room. Steve had no doubt he wouldn't be the only one lying awake at night, but somehow, he was okay with that. If his mom gave it some serious thought, then she might just agree to it. and he really hoped she did.

 

She deserved it, she deserved everything good in the world.

 

Even at the cost of Steve's own happiness, his choice…

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess which bitch is celebrating her b'day in two days? That's right, it's this bitch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked the prologue please subscribe to the story. It's been a pleasure to write and my head is already overflowing with all the ideas I have for this fic. Plus, I can't wait to write the smut, so much smut. But for the time being, there's going to be slow burn.....real slow burn ( I'm Kidding) 
> 
> Tags will be updated as the story progresses.  
> I hope you all stick around. If you like it, comment and let me know. It encourages me to keep writing. Also throw in some ideas about how the next chapter should go and if Steve should punch Joseph in the face. 
> 
> so give me some love, comment, share and give kudos.


End file.
